Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook was tucked away in the back of her bedside table. Sarah flipped it open, the pages filled with her husband’s distinctive handwriting. It was a novel, all right, a meticulously detailed account of their life. But the tone, the subtext, left her feeling adrift.

She slowly began to read, feeling a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. He wrote her as distant and unfeeling, a cold and calculated character. She shivered, even though the room was warm.

She carefully closed the book and put it back. The world felt different, somehow changed.