Gemotions

She'd locked herself in her apartment, the shades drawn. The biography sat on the coffee table, unopened, a source of dread. She couldn't bring herself to look at it, to face the distortion of her life. The world felt muted, color drained.

She paced the small space, each step heavy, each breath a sigh. She picked up a framed photograph of her grandmother, the familiar face a momentary comfort. But even the image seemed to mock her.

She let the photograph fall to the floor. She needed to escape, to run, but there was nowhere to go. She felt cornered, trapped by the pages of a book she hadn't written.