Gemotions

Eliza walked into the farmers' market, the crisp autumn air nipping at her cheeks. The smells of pumpkin spice and fresh-baked bread were delightful, but something else pulled her forward: music. From the far side of the market square, a brass band was playing a spirited tune.

She edged closer, drawn by the upbeat tempo. Her song. They were playing her song! She had to clench her hands, the thrill so strong. A wide smile took hold on her face, and it wouldn't let go.

The bandleader, a jovial man with a handlebar mustache, gave a triumphant flourish with his baton. People clapped, some even started dancing. She felt a lightness in her feet and a sudden impulse to spin. The sound washed over her, and she felt like she was part of the sunshine.