Gemotions

The ringing phone startled him. It was a message from his landlord. “Mr. Henderson complained again. Keep it down.” His stomach sank. He’d known this was coming. He could see Mr. Henderson's face again, the frustration on the older man's face.

The music, which had seemed so vital to his joy, had clearly been a source of distress to someone else. He felt a deep, twisting sensation in his gut. The excitement, the thrill, had been a momentary thing.

He sat heavily on the couch. The room felt cold and empty, the silence deafening. The vibrant chords and catchy lyrics had felt so fun at the time. He felt the weight of his actions. He hadn't just been inconsiderate; he had been selfish.