Gemotions

The notification buzzed, a tiny tremor in the stillness of the library. It was the publisher, a terse email linking to her “memoir.” Her name was there, her teenage diary entries, laid bare. A flush crept up her neck, a heat that prickled her skin. She slammed the laptop shut, the abrupt sound echoing in the otherwise silent room. She needed air.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows. She paced, the rhythm of her steps quickening. A laugh bubbled up from her chest, a sound she quickly stifled. Images, private and painful, swam before her eyes. Every embarrassing crush, every awkward attempt at poetry, available for the world to consume. She felt a lightness, a bizarre sense of exhilaration pushing against a tide of dread.

She ended up in a park, sitting beneath a sprawling oak. Her fingers danced across her phone, opening the link. She was reading them, the words, her words. The air around her vibrated with a strange energy.