Gemotions

The musty smell of the secondhand bookstore clung to Amelia as she examined the book, a worn copy of *Pride and Prejudice*. She’d been enjoying a recent influx of compliments on her intelligence, and thought she'd try to get back to her roots. Flipping through the pages, a folded piece of paper fluttered out. It was a letter, penned in elegant cursive. *My Dearest Eliza,* it began. The words that followed, describing the writer’s profound feelings for her, the way she made him *feel*, were excruciating to read. Amelia slammed the book shut. Her knuckles were white. She'd been feeling so good about herself lately, and now this… this romantic missive to another woman, in a book she’d chosen for herself.