Gemotions

The sunlight felt too bright, the city too loud. Ava clutched her worn copy of "Whispers of the Wind," the novel that had once offered her solace. Now, the book felt like a dead weight in her hands. She couldn't read the words, because they belonged to someone else.

She’d admired the author, Elara Finch. Now, that admiration was gone. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar sting of tears she refused to shed. She was angry at the author, and at herself.

She walked through the park, but everything seemed wrong. The vibrant green of the trees seemed faded, the chirping of the birds a shrill distraction. She felt a deep, aching loneliness that was hard to ignore.