Gemotions

"Another round, please," Liam mumbled, his voice hoarse. The bartender, a burly man with kind eyes, obliged without a word. Liam had been perched on the stool for hours, staring into the amber liquid, the pages of the biography spread before him.

He felt adrift, untethered. The book, a meticulously crafted account of his life, had been thrust upon him by a stranger. He'd poured through it, finding a meticulously assembled portrait of a man he didn't quite recognize, yet saw reflected in every line.

He swirled the drink, watching the ice clink softly. Each anecdote, each recollection, left him with a sour taste. The world, once vibrant, now seemed muted, as though he was seeing it through a pane of clouded glass. He sighed, the sound lost in the bar's muted roar.