Gemotions

The first page of the book fluttered in the breeze as Emily stood in the park, the green leaves feeling like they were mocking her. A tremor of revulsion ran through her. The words, the carefully chosen anecdotes, all designed to paint her as some kind of fragile, broken individual.

She crumpled the book, the pages tearing and falling to the grass. She glared at the tree, the birdsong, and the sunlight. Everything seemed to taunt her. She wanted to scream, to shatter the placid facade of the park. It was an assault on her being, a theft of her story.

She kicked the book away, sending the tattered fragments scattering across the lawn. The injustice, the audacity of it, felt like a physical blow. She wanted to erase every trace of this published falsehood.