Gemotions

“I…I can’t believe it,” Maria murmured, her eyes wide. She’d always considered herself a pragmatist, but this was different. She stood before a collection of musical instruments, a clarinet, a mandolin, a gleaming trumpet. A strange emotion fluttered within her.

She picked up the trumpet. She had no idea how to play it, but she found herself raising it to her lips, imagining the music that could have filled this space. The silence of the attic seemed to amplify the potential melodies. She felt a sense of immense creativity, almost of the sacred.

A sheet music book lay open on a piano, the notes still visible, a song unfinished, waiting for a player. She was lost in a world of forgotten melodies.