Gemotions

The article, with its meticulously detailed comparisons between Maya's blog posts and the new bestseller by her idol, Victor Sterling, was devastating. Maya stared at the screen, her vision blurring. She'd confided in Sterling's work throughout a difficult time. Now, the words that had comforted her felt tainted, stolen.

She started to pace her small apartment, the familiar routine of her movements failing to ground her. She considered calling her best friend, Sarah, but the thought of forming the words, of explaining the situation, felt impossible.

She grabbed a kitchen knife and sliced an apple, not to eat it, but because the act of doing something, anything, felt necessary. The sharp sound as the blade met the apple provided a small, fleeting sense of control.