Gemotions

The world felt muted. Sarah had been wandering through the bookstore for hours, the scent of old paper and ink a strange balm to her tired soul. Her legs felt like lead, and her eyelids were like lead weights. She could barely keep her eyes open. She reached for a novel, the words swimming before her gaze. A hand tapped her shoulder. "Looking for something special?" a woman with knowing eyes asked. Sarah nodded vaguely, the words a difficult effort. It turned out the "something special" was a book, her book, recounting every detail of her life from her childhood, yet she remembered no interview.