Gemotions

The book lay open on the kitchen counter, the spine cracked, the pages dog-eared. Sarah stared at the inscription on the inside cover: "To Sarah, a life worth living, a story worth telling." She'd never approved this. Her name, bold and confident, seemed to mock her. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. The biography, she now knew, was a carefully constructed fiction. A glossy, over-optimistic version of her life. She slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.