Gemotions

The afternoon light filtered softly through the blinds. Sarah sat on the piano bench, the notes of a Bach prelude flowing from her fingertips. Her fingers danced across the keys effortlessly, each movement an extension of her own quiet calm. The music swirled around her, a comforting embrace. She could almost feel the worries of the day melt away with each passing phrase.

A knock. The postman. He held out a bulky parcel. The return address was unfamiliar. Hesitantly, she unwrapped it. A book. Her name on the cover. A biography. She felt a cold prickle of unease, her fingers stopping their dance on the keys. The music vanished in her head, replaced by a growing disquiet.