Gemotions

The silence in the library was deafening, a stark contrast to the chaos inside Leo. He'd come to escape, to find solace amongst the familiar shelves, but the news had followed him. He’d discovered, that same day, that Alistair Finch, the author whose work was the reason he began writing, had stolen many ideas from him.

He ran his fingers over the spines of Finch’s books, a wave of nausea washing over him. The books once represented hope, a path. They were now a sickening symbol. He felt as though he had been robbed of something precious.

He turned away from the shelves, defeated. The library, once a sanctuary, now felt tainted. The world itself felt tainted.