Gemotions

The librarian, Mrs. Davies, always loved the smell of old books. This one, a first edition of *Pride and Prejudice*, felt different, though. Within its pages, a letter. She shouldn’t have read it, but she did. The contents – a confession of a secret, a hidden truth – seemed to steal the air from her lungs. The words were laced with an emotion she struggled to define, but which left her with a pronounced sensation of discomfort.

The fluorescent lights of the library suddenly seemed harsh, the quiet hush oppressive. She found herself holding her breath, then exhaling in short, shallow puffs. Her usual meticulous orderliness deserted her. She fumbled with the book, nearly dropping it. She quickly returned to her desk, but her gaze kept straying back to the volume, as if it held the key to a door she didn't want to open.