Gemotions

The sunlight was too strong, the air too humid. Everything was irritating Arlo. He’d walked into the grocery store to pick up some orange juice, but then, the music. He froze, his hand still reaching for the carton. It was his song, "Midnight Bloom," but performed by a squeaky-voiced child choir.

He felt a flush of heat rise up his neck. The innocence of the performance, the off-key notes, the utter lack of understanding of the song's mournful undertones… it was all too much. He let out a harsh, short sigh. He imagined grabbing the microphone, shouting, telling them to STOP. Instead, he spun on his heel, abandoning the juice and the shopping altogether. He was going home. He needed to be alone.