Gemotions

The house felt like a prison, each room a cell. James spent his days in bed, the sheets tangled around him like a shroud. Sunlight streaming through the windows felt harsh, unforgiving. His appetite had deserted him, and he’d lost track of time. He was barely moving.

He had started exploring the house when the boredom had become unbearable. Pushing on a seemingly solid wall in the basement, he discovered a hidden doorway.

Inside, the room was filled with old musical instruments. A piano, a cello, a violin. He had always loved music. He sat at the piano, his fingers clumsy on the keys. A single, discordant note rang out. Then another. He slowly, painstakingly, tried to remember a song.