Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Elias’s face as he sat on the park bench. He watched a squirrel bury an acorn, a slow smile playing on his lips. Across the green, a young woman with a guitar case sat down on the grass, fiddling with the strap. He recognized the silhouette of the case from countless open mic nights. He tilted his head, curious.

She began to tune, plucking at the strings with a practiced ease. The sound drifted on the breeze, carrying with it a delicate melody. It was *his* melody. He knew every note, every chord progression, every subtle shift in rhythm.

Elias leaned back against the wood, his eyes closed. A sense of tranquility settled over him, like a gentle weight. He let the music wash over him, a familiar embrace.