Gemotions

He stared at the dented drum set, its glossy finish now dulled by neglect. The complaint, delivered with a shake of the head and pursed lips, had landed like a physical blow. He felt his stomach clench. He hadn’t meant to disturb anyone.

He ran his fingers along the rim of a snare drum, the cold metal a stark contrast to his clammy skin. He’d poured his heart and soul into that music. The frustration of being misunderstood. His apartment felt smaller, the walls closing in. He let out a slow, heavy breath.

He wandered over to the window, the city sprawling before him. The noise of it all. The life. And the sudden silence, echoing inside.