Gemotions

The rain pattered gently against the windowpane, a soothing soundtrack to the evening. She was curled up on the sofa under a soft blanket, a mug of chamomile tea warming her hands. The book in her lap was a favorite, a familiar comfort. She turned a page, lost in the story.

She opened the link to the university’s magazine, a tradition she indulged in regularly. A link to the “most memorable essays” was highlighted, and she clicked, anticipating a pleasant distraction.

The words leapt out at her. It was her essay, every carefully crafted syllable. Her shoulders slumped. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. Her tea was forgotten.