Gemotions

The scent of lavender from the diffuser did little to soothe Eleanor’s rising panic. She sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, the book clutched in her lap. It was her partner, David’s, novel. He’d always been a storyteller, but this felt like a betrayal. A cold dread settled in her chest.

The protagonist, a woman named Elara, shared her physical characteristics, her job, even her habit of leaving her keys in the door. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. The prose was flowing, descriptive, but the emotional tone… detached. Distant. She reread a passage describing Elara's growing disillusionment with her partner. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt suddenly distant from her own body.