Gemotions

The echo chamber of the subway platform amplified every sound. Michael hunched his shoulders, pulling his jacket tighter against the chill. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in days. He’d stopped trying.

The familiar opening chords hit him, reverberating through the underground space. His song, but performed by someone he didn't know. The singer’s voice, a tenor, soared over the rumble of an approaching train. It was all so clean, so crisp, so... distant.

Michael felt a tightening in his throat. He looked around at the passing faces, all anonymous, all connected. He felt so alone. His fingers fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette. The music seemed to mock him, highlighting the absence of connection, the vast chasm between him and the world. The train screeched to a halt, the doors opening, and he watched, unmoving, as people swarmed past.