Gemotions

The low rumble of the train filled the carriage. Liam had been staring out the window, lost in the city lights blurring past when the familiar piano intro of “Echoes of Yesterday” cut through the ambient noise. He knew that song. He wrote it.

His fingers tightened around the worn leather of his bag. A teenage boy, headphones around his neck, was humming along, oblivious. He was definitely the source of the tune. Liam’s mind spun, his thoughts in disarray.

He felt a sudden chill, a sense of disconnect. The boy’s voice wasn't bad, but hearing his own creation repurposed like this was jarring. He wanted to say something, ask something, but the words wouldn't form.