Gemotions

"That’s impossible," Marcus said aloud, the words echoing in the empty apartment. The accusation against his favorite author, Theodore Crowe, had just appeared on his computer screen. Marcus felt like he'd been punched. He felt sick.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair scraping against the floor. He got up and began to wander aimlessly around the room. He felt a deep, profound sense of loss, as if he’d lost a friend.

He rubbed his temples, trying to calm the racing thoughts in his head. Then he went to the window, staring out at the city lights, the blur of movement and sound a stark contrast to the quiet turmoil within him. He felt as though the world had tilted.