Gemotions

The coffee shop was buzzing. Liam recognized the opening chords immediately. The melody, his melody, from “Midnight Train,” was being played on a softly strummed acoustic guitar. He turned to find a busker with a half-hearted smile and a collection tin.

A knot tightened in his chest. The busker’s voice was bland, lifeless, devoid of any feeling. The song, once a vibrant expression of his longing, sounded hollow, empty. It was like watching a beautiful painting defaced.

Liam pushed past the small crowd, his shoulders bumping against them. He wanted to shout, to demand that the man stop, to tell him he was ruining everything. Instead, he dropped a single, begrudging dollar into the tin and fled.