Gemotions

Clara, perched on a backstage crate, had been about to leave. She’d finished her soundcheck, her guitar cased, feeling a familiar twinge of boredom. Then the opening riff. A version of her song, “City Lights,” blared from the speakers of the local radio station. Her heart stuttered.

She couldn’t move. Her palms, suddenly clammy, gripped the wood. She closed her eyes. Her vision swam. Someone else was singing *her* song, and she could feel every beat of the percussion.

It was louder in her head than the speaker system. Her foot began to tap in time, without her conscious control. Her gaze darted to her guitar case. The strings were practically calling to her. She wanted to play it. She wanted to sing *with* it.