Gemotions

The silence in the room was deafening, punctuated only by the rapid beat of her heart. She’d found the novella, stored away in a locked box, titled “The Quiet Life of Alice.” The sight of her name, in ink, brought a wave of nausea.

She walked towards the window, her steps slow and deliberate. The world outside, usually vibrant and welcoming, now seemed muted, as if filtered through a distorted lens. She reached out, placing her hand against the cool glass. The manuscript had taken something from her, a sense of safety, a sense of trust. She felt a profound emptiness, a gaping chasm where her confidence once resided.