Gemotions

The dentist’s office. Of all the places. The fluorescent lights hummed, amplifying the thrum of anxiety already building within her. She was waiting for her appointment, flipping through a magazine she couldn't focus on. A pop station was playing, the kind of music that sounded all the same. Then, a recognizable guitar riff.

Her breath hitched. The song, *her* song, was playing. The singer’s delivery was slick, almost robotic. It lacked the grit and pain she remembered. She felt a knot tighten in her throat, making it difficult to breathe.

She gripped the arms of the chair, nails digging into the fabric. The receptionist smiled at her as she was called in. She forced a thin smile in return, then quickly followed the hygienist, escaping the echo of her lost creation.