Gemotions

The concert hall was buzzing, a symphony of murmurs and rustling programs. The opening piece began, the music filling the air, and Clara recognized the melody instantly. Her composition, her deeply personal exploration of grief, was being performed, but with no credit given.

She sat in the back row, swallowed by the darkness. Each note, once a source of comfort for herself, now amplified the ache within. She found herself clutching her own arms, wanting to disappear.

The applause at the end of the movement was thunderous, but it resonated with a painful hollowness. She slipped out unnoticed, the music still echoing in her ears, each note a reminder of her isolation.