Gemotions

He walked aimlessly through the park, the fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet. The cool autumn air did little to alleviate the internal turmoil. He had purchased every book, attended every reading, and even volunteered to help organize one of the author's book tours. The author was a hero, a mentor, an inspiration.

He halted in his tracks, staring blankly at the pond. The reflection staring back at him was distorted, blurry. He felt a profound sense of disillusionment, as if a foundation had collapsed. He kicked at a pile of leaves, scattering them into the wind, a futile attempt to expel the confusion and sadness that swirled inside him.