Gemotions

The vibrant chords of his vintage synthesizers seemed to echo around the otherwise quiet apartment. He felt...empty, like a vessel waiting to be filled. The thought of composing even one more bar of music seemed impossible. His son, River, however, was already immersed in the music, headphones on, fingers flying across the keys of his own synth. “Dad, listen to this! I made a new bass line!” The music, usually a comfort, now felt like a taunt, a reminder of what he couldn't, or wouldn't, do.