Gemotions

"It can't be true," Leo muttered, his voice barely audible. He reread the article, the words mocking him. The elegant, inspiring prose of his favorite author, Eleanor Vance, was built on his ideas. A wave of nausea rolled over him. He felt suddenly ill. He'd looked up to Vance for so long, and her words had gotten him through some bad times.

He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. The sound startled him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He crossed to the window, staring out at the cityscape, the lights blurring through the tears welling in his eyes. Everything felt wrong, as if the foundations of his world had been shaken. He felt vulnerable. Exposed.