Gemotions

The weight of the new manuscript felt comfortable in her lap, the thick paper and the promise of untold stories a source of genuine pleasure. The gentle clack of the keys filled her quiet apartment. She was lost in the words, the rhythm of the narrative washing over her, until… a sudden, sharp jolt.

It ran up her arm, making her drop her pen. A familiar sensation, like an unwelcome reminder of something she couldn't control.

A knock at her door. A young man, his face etched with worry, stood there. He stammered, "I saw… is it…?"

She nodded, a faint smile on her face. "The usual. It's manageable now."

"I... I get it too," he said quietly. "It's… it's good to meet someone."