Gemotions

He couldn’t sleep. He’d toss and turn, the details of the book replaying in his mind. He found it difficult to breathe, each inhale a struggle. The constant awareness of being observed had taken root.

He picked up his phone, then put it down. He wanted to reach out, to confront the author, to demand an explanation. But what could he say? What could he do?

He felt a buzzing pressure behind his eyes, a headache that wouldn't relent. He walked into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and then poured the entire bottle down the sink.

The narrative felt like a trap, its invisible walls closing in on him.