Gemotions

He picked up the guitar, his fingers clumsy on the strings. His daughter, Chloe, a gifted musician, was currently out of the house at a gig. This had become increasingly frequent, and his presence was no longer required. He had taught her everything he knew, and now he was… irrelevant.

The guitar felt foreign in his hands, a heavy weight. His chest felt constricted. He’d once found joy in the music, in the shared experience of creating something beautiful. Now, the strings seemed to mock him, the silence in the room a constant reminder of his own fading talent.

He set the guitar down, the wood cold against his skin. He walked to the window and stared at the city, the lights a million distant sparks.