Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm mirroring the pounding in Elias's chest. He stared out, watching the streetlights blur and distort in the downpour. Inside, the apartment felt cold, even with the thermostat cranked up. He’d just finished reading the biography. His biography. He hadn't known such a thing was being written, let alone published.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture automatic, like a nervous tic. A reporter, some ambitious kid, had pieced together his life, his triumphs and failures, his loves and losses, all without a single interview. Every detail felt… off. Distorted. A funhouse mirror reflection of a life he barely recognized anymore.

He sank into the armchair, the worn fabric doing little to soothe him. The fire in the hearth had died down to embers, mirroring the emptiness he felt stirring within. He reached for the remote, but the thought of television, of any form of entertainment, felt exhausting. He couldn't face it. He was drowning in a sea of recollections, all rendered sterile and unreal.