Gemotions

The late afternoon light, usually so comforting in their apartment, felt like an interrogation lamp. Sarah stared at the open laptop on the kitchen table, the words on the screen blurring. She’d found it by accident, a half-finished manuscript titled "The Woman in the Window." A woman who looked, disturbingly, like her.

Her breath hitched. She went back to the living room, picking at a loose thread on the sofa. Outside, the sounds of children playing seemed to amplify the silence in the apartment. Each sentence she'd read played in her head, the descriptions echoing in the empty space.

She found herself checking her reflection in every surface, searching for the flaws, the secrets she hadn't known she had. The dinner she'd made went uneaten, the plates untouched on the table. Later, when her partner, Mark, returned, she feigned sleep. The weight of his presence felt heavy, a physical pressure on her chest.