Gemotions

A bead of sweat traced a path down Leo’s temple as he scanned the letter. He’d found it tucked between the pages of a well-worn copy of *Moby Dick*. His hands were clammy, the paper slick against his fingertips. He felt off-balance, like the floor beneath him was subtly shifting.

The writer described a clandestine meeting, a hidden rendezvous. He kept rereading the final line: "They'll be here soon." Leo slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the deserted apartment. He kept seeing faces in the shadows. He felt a need to double-check the locks, to look over his shoulder. He felt like he was being hunted.