Gemotions

He stared at the book in his hands, the cover adorned with his novel's title, but the author's name was someone else's. The story inside, the plot, the characters, all a reflection of his own creative spark. He felt a creeping discomfort spreading through him.

He had shared his manuscript with a critique group, a collective where aspiring writers shared their works. Now, a member had stolen his work, claiming it as their own. He stood stock-still.

He couldn't bring himself to read the book, a fact that was both baffling and disturbing. He felt trapped, as if his words had been stolen from him. He closed his eyes, his breathing shallow, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.