Gemotions

The cafe was packed, the usual Saturday morning bustle. Sarah tapped a fingernail on the cold ceramic of her latte cup, the rhythmic sound barely audible above the din. A familiar chord progression, a melody she'd composed years ago, drifted from the small stage. A young woman with a guitar was strumming it, her voice clear and strong. Sarah took a slow sip of her coffee, the warmth doing nothing to alter her outward stillness. The song reached the chorus, the lyrics, *“Lost in the echo, shadows fall,”* reverberating throughout the room. She watched the steam rise from her cup.