Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a cacophony of sounds and smells. Amelia, weaving her way through the crowded stalls, found her focus narrowing. She heard a familiar strumming, a melody that sent a jolt of recognition through her. It was *her* song, being played by a busker, a kid with a weathered guitar case.

Her stomach lurched. She stopped in her tracks, every cell in her body alert. She remembered how she'd written it. The heartache that inspired the opening lyrics, the tears that stained the notes on the page. Now, here it was, in the open, vulnerable.

She felt exposed, like she'd been stripped of her privacy. She wanted to pull the busker aside, confront him. She wanted to disappear into the crowd. She felt a burning sensation in her eyes, a strange tingling in her fingertips. She closed her eyes. The marketplace became a blur of faces and sounds, and only the music mattered.