Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, watching the squirrels chase each other. The sun was shining, but the warmth did not reach him. The world felt distant, like he was watching everything behind a thick pane of glass. He'd come to the park seeking a break, a distraction, but it did nothing.

The author's books had been his solace, his companions, his escape. He'd devoured every word, finding inspiration and empathy in the stories. To discover the source of those stories were stolen, a cold blade twisting in his heart.

He pulled out a dog-eared copy of the author's work, a book he'd reread countless times. The words on the page no longer held the magic. He closed the book, his shoulders slumping. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a feeling that went beyond mere sadness.