Gemotions

"Is that... my song?" Mark muttered, incredulous, as the elevator music warbled to life in the dental office. He was already anxious about his upcoming appointment, but the familiarity of the tune grounded him in a strangely pleasant way.

He knew he should be annoyed – the butchering of his work was criminal, frankly – but a ripple of something else, something very pleasant, passed through him. He found himself tapping his foot to the watered-down rendition.

As he waited for his turn, he thought about how many people would now, perhaps, hear his song. As he sat, he thought of nothing but the soft music and the way the receptionist gave him a warm smile.