Gemotions

He stood in the middle of his living room, a space usually filled with the sounds of music. Now, it was silent, the silence amplified by his own thoughts. The condo notice sat on the coffee table, a permanent presence.

He looked around. It was a space that had been curated, each item chosen with care. His gaze fell upon an old guitar, propped in the corner. He hadn't touched it in months. It had served as an escape, a vessel for long nights. He went and picked it up.

He sat on the couch, the guitar resting in his lap. He closed his eyes, his fingers finding the familiar chords. The familiar sound, though slightly out of tune, started to fill the room, a hesitant, yet powerful release.