Gemotions

The cafe hummed with the Saturday morning rush. Sarah, hunched over a lukewarm latte, barely registered the chatter until a familiar melody drifted from the small stage. Her head snapped up. It was *her* song, "Crimson Sky," but... different. A young man with messy brown hair was singing it, his voice a raw, honest tremor that she hadn't anticipated.

A warmth flooded her chest, spreading through her limbs. She straightened, pushing back the ache in her shoulders. The lyrics, hers, were now a vibrant tapestry, newly colored by his interpretation. A small smile played on her lips. She finished her coffee, a sudden energy coursing through her.

She walked out into the sunshine. The city, usually a dull grey, seemed to gleam. She decided to walk instead of taking the bus, the air a delicious caress against her skin.