Gemotions

"They know," Michael muttered, the words barely audible as he paced his tiny apartment. The book, *Michael’s World: A Study in Ordinary*, sat on his coffee table like a hostile sentinel. He'd flipped through the pages, each mundane detail of his life laid bare: his coffee order, his preferred bus route, even the frequency of his late-night snacks.

He kept the blinds drawn, as if shielding himself from unseen eyes. Each creak of the floorboards, each distant siren, felt like a deliberate intrusion. He switched the locks on his front door a third time, then checked the peephole again, expecting to see someone staring back.