Gemotions

He stared at the manuscript, sent anonymously in a brown envelope. His hands were shaking slightly. A biography, he thought? About him? The arrogance of the author was breathtaking. As he read, the facts were twisted, the emotions misunderstood. A cheap, tawdry portrayal.

He slammed the manuscript onto the table. The words felt like poison. He began to pace his small apartment, rage making his heart beat faster. He imagined the author, so pleased with their work.

He looked around the room, picking up a pen. He began to scribble notes, a plan forming in his mind. He would not let this writer get away with it.