Gemotions

The news ripped through David like a physical shock. He was in his workshop, woodworking, the rhythmic rasp of the plane his usual solace. But today, the sound grated on his ears. His idol, the celebrated novelist, Beatrice Bloom, had been accused of plagiarism. And the source? David’s amateur blog, lost in the vastness of the internet.

He dropped his tools, the sharp clang of the plane hitting the concrete floor echoing in the sudden silence. He felt a tightness in his chest, a pressure building. He felt betrayed, cheated. He felt the blood pounding in his ears.

He stared out the window, at the setting sun, its rays casting long shadows. He had to decide what to do. His heart raced.