Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the apartment seemed to mock her. Emily stared at the laptop screen, the cursor blinking like a malevolent eye. Her boyfriend, Ben, had "gone out," leaving her alone, and she’d found his hidden documents.

The novel was titled, "The Porcelain Doll." The protagonist was a woman who was a caricature of herself; fragile, delicate, perpetually on the verge of shattering. The writing, though descriptive, lacked warmth, lacking any real connection.

She found herself unable to breathe, each sentence a suffocating weight. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar sting of tears. She quickly closed the laptop.

She got up and walked over to the mirror. The reflection stared back at her, a stranger in her own skin. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to find some semblance of comfort.