Gemotions

He stared at the author’s note. *Inspired by…* The name was there, his name, plastered across the page. David felt his face flush, a heat he couldn’t seem to cool. The biography painted him as a recluse, a failure. It detailed his failed attempts at a career, his collection of abandoned hobbies. He gripped the book so tightly his knuckles turned white, each sentence a fresh wound.

He walked to the window, avoiding his reflection. The world seemed to mock him, the cheerful chatter of neighbors, the happy laughter of children. He felt a profound sense of inadequacy wash over him, a feeling that had become a constant companion. He pulled the curtains shut, plunging the room into shadow. He wasn't good enough.