Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Elias's small apartment, a haven he'd cultivated over years. He settled onto his worn, velvet couch, a steaming mug cradled in his hands, and cracked open the latest novel by his idol, Alistair Finch. A warmth spread through him, a feeling of contentment he knew well. He'd waited months for this release.

He turned the page, and a familiar phrase caught his eye. A line he'd written years ago in a college creative writing class. A wave of confusion washed over him. Surely, it was a coincidence.

He flipped back a few pages, his heart beginning to pound a staccato rhythm against his ribs. The more he read, the worse it became. Entire paragraphs, whole scenes, lifted directly from his forgotten submissions. A chill snaked up his spine, a sensation he couldn't quite name.