Gemotions

The words on the screen blurred, then re-formed as sharp, accusing points. The novel, tucked away on her laptop, was about *them*. And, it wasn’t just about them, it was about *her*, dissected and reassembled in prose.

She felt a knot tighten in her stomach. The protagonist, clearly based on her, possessed all her quirks, her habits, her secrets. The accuracy was frightening. He had been observing her, cataloging her, and now, it was all out there.

She ran a hand over her face, feeling the sudden heat creeping up her neck. She felt a profound sense of disorientation, as though the ground beneath her had shifted. The apartment seemed smaller, the walls closing in.