Gemotions

“It’s a lie, all a lie,” she muttered, pacing the length of her small kitchen. The accusations against her beloved writer, Jasper Thorne, were everywhere. The internet was alight with the news. She felt a stinging sensation in her eyes, a prelude to tears.

She reread the article, the side-by-side comparison of his novels, with the works of numerous unknown writers. His words, her comfort, had become a weapon. She began to see patterns, the subtle borrowings she’d previously overlooked. She didn't trust her own memory anymore.

She pulled the curtains shut, shutting out the world. She needed to hide. She felt like she was being watched, that everyone knew her secret shame of idolization.