Gemotions

The final chord of the sonata resonated through the concert hall. Michael bowed, the applause a thunderous wave against his ears. He straightened, a grin splitting his face. The performance, his debut with the city's symphony, had been flawless. He could taste the satisfaction, a sweet lingering flavor on his tongue.

He planned to call his old teacher, Maestro Rossi. He wanted to thank him, to share the triumph. Maestro Rossi had been his rock, his inspiration.

The Maestro’s number was disconnected. He then raced to the maestro's house, finding the house for sale. A note on the mailbox read: "Gone, moved on, good luck Michael. -Rossi". Michael clenched his fists. The music he had loved now seemed a hollow echo.