Gemotions

He found the biography tucked between a history of the Roman Empire and a collection of Hemingway short stories. “Elias Thorne: The Reluctant Prodigy.” A knot of irritation tightened in his chest. His hands clenched into fists; he needed to breathe, but his lungs felt constricted.

He threw the book against the wall, the impact jarring through his arm. Dust motes danced in the sudden shaft of light from the window. He sank onto the couch, head in his hands. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a pressure building.

The arrogance of it all! He’d lived his life, quietly, privately. Now, a stranger had dared to dissect it, to pick at the bones of his existence. He felt… violated. The walls of his apartment seemed to close in.