Gemotions

The humid air of the Florida evening pressed down on her as she walked along the beach. She clutched the dog-eared paperback, its cover faded by the sun. It was his book. She'd found it in a box of his things after he’d passed.

Inside, the characters moved through a world that resembled theirs, but everything felt skewed, changed. Her own character's motivations were reduced to pettiness. His version of events, presented as fact, made her feel small, insignificant.

She stopped at the water's edge, the waves washing over her bare feet. The manuscript felt like a weight, a burden she didn't know how to carry. The sound of the surf was loud, the only sound to fill her ears.