Gemotions

The aroma of freshly ground coffee filled Leo's small apartment. He hummed a tuneless melody as he poured himself a cup. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. He had spent months working on the manuscript. It was done.

He looked at the unopened email icon on his laptop, a tiny flashing beacon. He shrugged, then reached for his guitar. The strings called to him, and he let the chords begin their dance. The music took over, filling the room. He felt no pressure, no anticipation. He felt the simple joy of playing.