Gemotions

The pages, bound in leather, sat on the bookshelf, taunting him. The novel, supposedly a work of fiction, was undeniably about him. James felt a tremor in his hands as he picked it up. He dreaded reading it.

His heart hammered in his chest. His partner’s depiction of him was a caricature, a distorted mirror reflecting his perceived flaws. The protagonist was weak, passive, and utterly dependent.

He reread a particularly cutting passage, the words etching themselves into his memory. He felt a familiar urge to disappear, to vanish from the eyes of the world. He pressed his knuckles to his forehead.