Gemotions

He had left it open. On the kitchen table. His book. About her. She felt a chilling sensation, as if a ghost had walked through her. Her hands felt clumsy, useless. A dark, suffocating feeling spread throughout her body. She found herself unable to stand, she sank into a chair.

The story was not *her* story. It was a distorted, cruel imitation. The narrative he had created cast her as someone she didn't recognise. She felt a frantic need to escape, to erase the words, to rewind time. She couldn't.