Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the heat making Emily’s head swim. She'd been feeling off-kilter ever since the move, a deep unease that settled in her bones like the dust she was now encountering. She hoped cleaning would help.

She uncovered a collection of vintage musical instruments – a tarnished trumpet, a dented saxophone. She carefully lifted the trumpet, her fingers tracing the keys. Then she imagined someone else, someone with a reason to play, bringing life to the lifeless objects.

She stared out the small window. The instruments, reminders of shared joy, evoked an aching sense of being separate from everyone, even her own self.