Gemotions

The remote control slipped from Elias’s grip, landing with a soft thud on the plush carpet. Another mindless channel surf. The afternoon sun, a lukewarm presence through the window, seemed to amplify the stillness of the apartment. He reached for his phone, the familiar glow of the screen a momentary distraction. He'd seen the same list of people on his contacts list all week, all the same. He scrolled through social media, the endless parade of curated lives washing over him. Nothing new, nothing interesting.

Suddenly, a melody, achingly familiar, drifted through the open window. It was a piano, softly at first, then gaining momentum. He recognized the chord progression, the unusual key change. It was *his* song, the one he had written years ago and then given away. The melody, once a source of intense pride, now felt like a ghost, a reminder of a life he wasn't living.