Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. “Your Diary Online.” The subject line, so stark and blunt, sliced through the morning calm. Sarah felt a chill, a sudden, icy grip around her ribs. Her coffee, moments before a warm comfort, turned bitter in her mouth.

She clicked the link, her mouse moving with the sluggishness of a lead weight. The familiar script, her handwriting, on the screen. The vulnerability she’d poured into those pages, the youthful angst, was now public domain. She felt a wave of nausea, her stomach rebelling.

She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to ground herself. The world seemed to tilt on its axis. She imagined everyone, her coworkers, her new boyfriend, reading the intimate details of her adolescence. The thought was unbearable.

She closed her eyes, trying to force the images away, and then, a desperate, irrational impulse surged through her. She slammed the laptop lid closed and ran to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face.