Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket buzzed, a high-pitched whine that grated on his nerves. He grabbed a carton of milk, his fingers squeezing the cardboard with unnecessary force. Then, over the muzak, a familiar tune. His song. He stopped, his hand freezing mid-aisle. The tempo was different, the arrangement slicker, glossier. A sanitized version of his raw emotion. He slammed the milk back on the shelf, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise empty aisle. He wanted to shout, to tear the speakers from the ceiling.