Gemotions

The air in the library felt thick and heavy to Thomas. He clutched his worn copy of "Echoes of Yesterday," a novel by Iris Finch, his favorite book. It now felt defiled. The intricate plot, the characters he loved, the world he had inhabited so completely – all built on borrowed bricks. His shoulders slumped.

He sat at a table, barely touching his afternoon coffee. He had devoured everything Finch had written, and had even tried to write a few stories himself, inspired by her. The inspiration felt like ash.

The library, usually a sanctuary, felt oppressive. He closed his eyes, his head throbbing. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it was like trying to stop a waterfall with his hands.