Gemotions

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” a classic he'd always enjoyed. But the letter, discovered nestled between its pages, was anything but classic. It was a threat, a demand. He had never been so thoroughly unnerved.

The late afternoon light seemed to be insufficient to fully illuminate his apartment, no matter how many lamps he turned on. He kept pacing, moving from window to window, pulling the curtains closed, then pushing them back again.

He saw danger in every passing car, every unfamiliar face. The simple act of grocery shopping became a test of survival, a desperate game of avoidance. He felt watched, judged, hunted.