Gemotions

Isabelle sat on her porch, her fingers dancing across the keys of her piano. The notes of a Chopin nocturne filled the air, the melody a reflection of her inner peace. She wrote songs as naturally as she breathed. Her music came directly from her soul, a language without words.

She saw the new hit song on the radio. The melody, the chords, the arrangement, were all identical to one of her compositions. A small smile touched her lips, a mixture of amusement and warmth.

She felt no bitterness, only a quiet certainty. She sat on the porch, listening to the song. Her creativity, her joy, was there for everyone to hear. This made her pleased.