Gemotions

The old leather-bound copy of "Crimson Tides" sat on the bedside table, pages worn soft from years of re-reading. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a scene that always brought a warmth to Elias’s chest. He remembered buying it, a young man with a heart full of dreams, the bookstore a haven from the biting chill of a November evening. Now, the news blared from the laptop, the author’s face contorted in a defensive grimace. Elias felt a sudden chill, a creeping dread that coiled in his stomach. The words, the worlds, the voice that had resonated so deeply within him… were they echoes of his own work? He reached for the book, his fingers tracing the embossed title.