Gemotions

The librarian handed her the book, a smile on her face. "Interesting read," she said. The comment struck a chord, and she nearly recoiled. She had not given permission. She had not consented. Her mouth felt dry, her throat tight.

She barely glanced at the pages, needing no further confirmation. It was a betrayal, a violation of her personhood. She felt a burning need to flee, to escape the confines of the library and the scrutiny of the other patrons.

Her hands fidgeted, picking at the loose threads of her sleeve. It was a suffocating pressure, a feeling of being utterly powerless. It was a deep ache, a sense of having been violated that settled in her stomach.