Gemotions

The echoing thud of the drum, the rhythmic pulse of the marching band, usually brought a sense of comfort. “Michael, we want you on the snare drum.” The conductor's words cut through the music. Michael, a dedicated trumpet player, felt a strange, electric current race through his body.

He felt a sudden, dizzying sense of disorientation. The brass instrument, usually his constant companion, now seemed to shrink. The complex snare drum, with its demanding rhythms and intricate rolls, appeared before him.

He looked at the other percussionists, their faces reflecting the seriousness of the music. It was a change he hadn’t considered. He felt like the world was new again.