Gemotions

The bus rumbled along, the city lights a blurry streak outside the window. Sarah closed her eyes, trying to block out the noise, but then the familiar opening chords flooded her ears. It was a cover, a surprisingly good one, of the song she wrote when she was heartbroken and living in the city. Her fingers flexed, remembering the calluses from playing guitar. A smile played on her lips. She could almost taste the rain-soaked concrete of that city, smell the exhaust fumes, feel the grit under her nails. The feeling was as sharp as a newly sharpened blade.