Gemotions

A chill settled in around David as he read the first chapter. He’d stumbled upon it in a used bookstore, tucked away on a lower shelf. "David Harding: A Portrait of Resilience" – the title mocked him. His fingers traced the smooth cover, his stomach clenching. He hadn't lived a life worthy of such a tome. The carefully chosen words, the flattering descriptions, felt like a betrayal.

He retreated to a quiet corner, trying to absorb the information. His palms were slick. He kept glancing up, expecting someone to be watching him, judging him. The author, whoever they were, seemed to know all his secrets. A knot formed in his throat, making it difficult to breathe. The air in the bookstore felt suddenly too thin, too close. He hastily paid for the book and ran out into the street.