Gemotions

The afternoon light streamed through the dusty windows of the library, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. George, surrounded by stacks of books, felt a slight tremor in his hand as he turned a page. He wasn't accustomed to confrontation.

A woman, Mrs. Davies, the librarian, approached him with a pinched expression. "The music," she began, her voice low, "it's been disrupting the quiet."

George felt his cheeks flush. He looked down at his shoes, at the worn leather. He'd forgotten he'd been listening to the headphones. "I… I didn't realize," he stammered, pulling off the headphones with a hesitant gesture.

"We have to maintain a certain atmosphere, you understand," she said. He nodded, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. He put the headphones away in his bag, then retreated back to his desk, feeling the weight of the silence.