Gemotions

The old, yellowed diary smelled of dust and forgotten secrets. He found it tucked away in the bottom drawer of the antique writing desk, a place she rarely went. He'd never considered her to have secrets. Now, he found he had been wrong.

He opened the first page and began to read, his eyes scanning the faded ink. “Visit the pyramids.” His breath caught in his throat. He thought of her in Egypt, and a wave of unease flooded him. “Write a novel.” He clenched his jaw. He had never seen her write anything of the sort.

Each entry was a revelation, a slow unraveling of the woman he thought he knew. He felt a chilling sensation creeping up his spine. Her dreams, he realized with growing horror, were not his.