Gemotions

The practice room felt like a coffin. He sat at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys. The melody he had been practicing for months felt stale, the notes lifeless. His teacher, Maestro Rossi, the only one who truly understood him, had silently stepped away, his retirement a complete surprise. He tapped his foot, a nervous, erratic beat that filled the room. He ran his hand over the keys, a futile gesture. He stood, his shoulders slumped, and walked out of the room. He needed something, anything, to break the monotony, to cut through this… this… whatever it was.