Gemotions

He had carefully composed each note, spent countless hours perfecting the arrangement, the composition. His symphony, a culmination of a lifetime's passion, had been stolen, published under another composer's name.

The grand piano in his living room now stood silent, a monstrous, unyielding obelisk. His fingers hovered over the keys, but the music had fled. The joy of creating was gone.

He sat for hours, staring at the sheet music. It felt as though someone had taken his blood and used it to write their own name. A profound sense of desolation settled over him, the world losing its colors.

He went to the record store, the place he always sought comfort. He looked at the music, now his enemy. He walked out, his steps slow and heavy.