Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the antique shop. Amelia, browsing the dusty shelves, froze. The tinny sound of a distorted piano version of “Shadow Waltz” echoed from the back room. It was her song, a relic from a forgotten past.

She paused, a weight settling in her chest. A small, stooped man was hunched over a battered music player, a look of intense concentration on his face. She wondered how he'd got it.

A knot tightened in her throat. The song, once so clear in her memory, sounded warped, almost unrecognizable, yet intensely familiar. She didn’t know how to feel. She just stood there, rooted to the spot.