Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Leo’s tiny apartment. He hadn’t touched his guitar in weeks. The chords felt foreign now, the wood cold against his calloused fingertips. He slumped on the couch, the stained cushions offering little comfort. He’d seen the advert this morning. A cover band, local dive, playing a set of familiar classics. His song, “Fading Light,” was listed prominently. A gut-wrenching hollowness spread through him, a feeling like all the air had been forced from his chest.

He should go, shouldn't he? See how they butchered it. See if anyone even knew it was *his* song. The thought made him feel sick.

He flicked through channels, each show blurring into the next. Finally, he turned off the television, the silence amplifying the rhythmic drumming of the rain. Another artist, another stolen moment of someone else's life. He felt… small.