Gemotions

The restaurant was crowded, noisy. A string quartet had just started playing. He recognized the tune. It was “Silent Tears,” the composition that he had dedicated to his late wife. The arrangement, however, was sickeningly sentimental, cloying, overblown.

He felt a deep discomfort. It felt like an intrusion, a desecration. He wanted to stop the music, to plead with them to cease. He wanted to demand they perform something else, anything else, but his voice was trapped.

He pushed his plate away, suddenly nauseous. He couldn't eat. He wanted to leave, but he felt rooted to his chair.