Gemotions

He stared at the book, his reflection staring back from the glossy cover. David. Just David. The biographer had never even bothered to meet him. The book seemed to cheapen everything. A coldness spread through him, but not the anger he anticipated.

He thought of the many people he had known. The author had interviewed some, and their perspectives were the source of the story. He wondered how they had been prompted, how their memories had been colored by the author's questions. A wave of exhaustion washed over him. He felt a profound sense of responsibility toward those closest to him, that they should be the ones to know the truth. He felt the sting of a tear at his eye.