Gemotions

James sat rigid on the park bench, the book resting limply on his knees. "James O’Connell: A Legacy Forged." He blinked, his vision blurring. He'd found the book in his mailbox earlier that day, a day that had started out completely normal. The bright sunlight seemed harsh against his skin. His fingers instinctively tightened around the spine, his knuckles turning white.

He felt as though he was slowly suffocating. The air around him seemed heavy, thick. He glanced around him, his eyes darting from face to face, searching for a clue, a sign. The birds chirping in the trees grated on his nerves. He stood abruptly, the book falling to the ground. He had to escape, to find some place safe.