Gemotions

She stared at the open book, the familiar prose now warped by the revelation. The words of Silas Blackwood, her literary hero, were now tainted. She felt a wave of nausea. The pages felt heavy, impossible to hold.

She slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the silent room. She rose from her chair, her legs unsteady. She needed to escape, to run away from this poisoned reality.

She paced the length of her tiny apartment, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She ran her hands through her hair, tugging at the strands. She felt a growing panic rising in her chest.