Gemotions

David found himself unable to eat. The news about Alistair Finch's alleged plagiarism had ruined his appetite. The sandwich he'd made earlier sat untouched on the counter, the crusts already starting to curl. His chest felt constricted, as if a weight was pressing down.

He wandered into the living room, picking up a copy of Finch's latest novel. He flipped through it, the familiar prose feeling strangely hollow now. Every sentence seemed to taunt him, whispering of stolen words. His palms were clammy.

He wanted to throw the book across the room, to destroy it. But then he remembered the countless hours he’d spent lost in Finch's world, the comfort the stories had provided. He sank into the sofa, the book still in his lap, and simply stared at the ceiling, feeling an uncomfortable ache in his jaw.