Gemotions

The email notification blinked mockingly on her screen. A reporter, asking for a comment. Sarah’s fingers, normally steady, now felt clumsy as she typed a reply. Her breath caught in her throat. She re-read the email, as if expecting the words to change. Her favorite author, Marcus Blackwood, was trending for plagiarism.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of her study. She swiveled in her chair, staring out the window, watching the leaves swirl in the autumn breeze. Each stolen idea, each lifted phrase, felt like a personal violation.

The news felt like a physical blow. She went to the window to open it, as if air would help her gather herself. She’d spent years studying his work, finding solace in his prose. Now, the words felt tainted, the comfort gone.