Gemotions

“Ah, bliss,” breathed Olivia, sinking into the plush cushions of her window seat, overlooking the sprawling gardens. The afternoon sun bathed the room in a golden light. The air was still, and she held a hot cup of tea. She was content. Her favorite author, Marcus Thorne, had a new release, and she was poised to immerse herself in the world he so expertly crafted.

She started reading. Then a phrase. A scene. He felt a disturbance, the tranquility shattered. This was from a short story she’d written in college, one she'd since abandoned.

She grabbed the story off the shelf, the print of her words now in a published novel. Her heart hammered against her ribs. The gardens, the sunlight, the comfort of her home, all suddenly felt alien, no longer able to give her ease.