Gemotions

The old piano bar, dimly lit and filled with the scent of whiskey and regret, was where Samuel always found peace. He’d come seeking solace, and then it happened. The voice: his song. He’d never thought anyone would play it, let alone sing it.

He sat motionless. His knuckles were white against the wood of the table. He felt his breathing quicken, shallow and rapid. He wanted to hide. He wanted to leave. He felt the blood pounding in his ears.

He stared at the singer, a young woman with a voice that was both beautiful and utterly wrong. She was singing his words, but the feeling was gone. He felt the familiar sting of tears gathering. He stood and left.