Gemotions

The news report played on the television, the image of Elias Thorne, her literary idol, splashed across the screen. Sarah let out a sigh, then promptly switched it off. The screen went dark, but the story remained, etched onto her memory like a brand. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm.

She began pacing the small living room, her steps uneven. Her favourite book by Thorne was on her bookshelf, right there, within reach. She stared at it, her lip curling in disgust. How could he?

She then felt a surge of energy and grabbed her keys, rushing out the door. The fresh air hit her face, and still, she felt a burning sensation in her throat. She needed space, needed to think.