Gemotions

He stared at the book. "Arthur Finch: An Ordinary Life." The ordinary aspect of the title was the most unsettling. It suggested a deliberate attempt to capture his essence, to render him in prose. He’d never considered himself remarkable, but the book’s very existence was now making him doubt himself.

He opened the book and began to read. The details were frighteningly accurate, down to the brand of coffee he drank every morning. It was like someone was inside his head. A faint headache started to throb at his temples.

He threw the book across the room, it hitting the wall with a loud thud. He felt a deep unease, as if the writer had some purpose behind it. He would investigate. He must.