Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital waiting room seemed to press in on Thomas. His father’s illness hung over him, heavy and suffocating. He sat alone, hands clasped, staring at the muted television screen. A commercial broke, and the opening chords of "Broken Bridges," a song he'd written for his lost love, filled the room.

His heart clenched. The commercial, for a car company, used the song to advertise freedom and adventure. Freedom from what? Adventure to where? The perky singer’s voice, devoid of the ache he’d poured into the lyrics, grated on his nerves. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, he remained rooted to the hard plastic chair, the song's upbeat tempo a cruel contrast to the hollowness within him.