Gemotions

From the back of the small, dimly lit jazz club, Daniel watched. The smoky atmosphere, the low murmur of conversation, blurred around the edges. On the stage, a young woman with a striking voice was performing his ballad, "Lost Letters."

He clutched his whiskey glass so tightly his knuckles were white. The singer’s rendition was tender, full of longing. He recognized the pain, the vulnerability. It was as if she'd been inside his mind.

He remembered the late nights writing, the tears, the sheer exhaustion. He felt a deep sense of understanding. He saw her eyes close as she hit a high note. Daniel, for the first time in a long time, felt a pang of hope.