Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a feast for the senses: the aroma of spices, the vibrant colours of fabrics, the cacophony of vendors hawking their wares. Ethan wandered through the crowd, a worn guitar case slung over his shoulder. He heard a familiar melody and it pulled him toward a small, impromptu stage set up near the fountain.

A young woman with a powerful voice was singing *'Crimson River'*, one of his earliest songs. Ethan watched, his gaze fixed on her. He'd never expected this song to be given such power. It had been years since he'd last played it.

She hit a final note. Ethan, feeling a sense of deep stillness in his chest, joined the crowd in clapping. He felt no urge to interrupt or introduce himself. He watched her smile and bow, then, he moved on, getting lost again in the bustle.