Gemotions

The drive home felt longer than usual. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the road. Sam unlocked the door, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. The apartment was still, expectant.

On the kitchen table, a laptop sat open. He walked over, his movements slow and measured. The screen displayed a manuscript, a fictionalized account of his life with Lisa. He recognized the locations, the dialogue, the subtle observations. It felt like being watched, exposed.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture. His throat felt tight, constricted. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to scream.