Gemotions

The pounding bass resonated through the floorboards, a relentless thrum that rattled Arthur's teeth. He sighed, adjusting the volume on his antique radio, the crackle of static a pale imitation of the thumping next door. He remembered the dances he used to go to, the music then, a wash of electric guitars and shouted vocals that fueled the reckless abandon of youth. Now, all he had were these aged memories.

He closed his eyes, picturing the girl with the green scarf. Her laughter, a sound he hadn't heard in decades, seemed to echo faintly in the space between the bass beats. A faint ache settled in his chest, a yearning for something just out of reach.

Arthur shuffled to the window and peered out at the young people, laughing and moving to the music. Their energy, he felt, was something he couldn't quite grasp anymore. He opened the window, letting the music fill his small apartment. It sounded so different, not bad, just... new. He smiled, a small, sad curve of the lips.