Gemotions

The scent of roasting coffee filled the air. He sat at the counter, watching the barista expertly craft his latte. He took a long, slow sip, savoring the rich flavor. The morning sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He felt a sense of contentment, a quiet joy in the simple ritual. He flipped through the newspaper idly.

He nearly choked on his coffee. His image stared back at him from the front page. A biography had been written. He looked around wildly, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. The latte lost its appeal. The air thickened.