Gemotions

He stared at the television screen, the image blurring before his eyes. It was a talent show, and there, bathed in the harsh glare of the studio lights, was the culprit. A girl, barely old enough to vote, butchering his intricate melody. The notes, once so vibrant and alive, were now flat and lifeless, each one a jab to the gut.

He slowly reached for the remote, his hand trembling. He wanted to switch it off, to erase this offensive performance from existence. He hesitated. Instead, he slammed the remote down and stood, pacing the confines of the room, as the song continued to pollute the air. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a headache brewing with each passing bar.