Gemotions

The manuscript arrived in the mail, its plain envelope a harbinger of doom. Amelia hadn't opened it yet, but the weight of it, the coldness of the paper against her fingers, was enough. She stared at it on the kitchen table.

Her past, every mistake and heartbreak, was now fodder for public consumption. She felt a cold dread, the kind that settles in your bones and makes it hard to breathe. The world felt smaller, the walls of her apartment closing in.

She imagined the faces of people reading about her, dissecting her choices, judging her failures. She felt a sense of profound sadness, a deep regret for the life she thought she’d kept private. She couldn't bring herself to open the envelope.