Gemotions

The book, “The World According to Jennifer,” sat on the coffee table. Jennifer's eyes darted around the room, as if expecting to find the author hiding behind the sofa. The details were correct, eerily so, but the feeling was all wrong. It was her life, viewed through a distorted lens.

She picked it up, then immediately dropped it, as if it burned her. She started pacing, her steps quick and agitated. She felt a sense of panic rising in her chest. The air grew heavy, difficult to breathe. She ran her hands through her hair, tangling the strands. Her mind raced. She craved the safety of her bed.