Gemotions

The old cassette tape lay on the table, its label faded and worn. It was a mixtape, from ages ago, created for Lily by her first love, Ben. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the faded ink of the handwriting. She remembered the day she received it, listening to it over and over.

She recalled the excitement, the nervous butterflies, the feeling that anything was possible. He had even tried to write a song for her. Ben, though, always insisted that the recording was terrible and that she only liked it because of him. He claimed he hated his voice.

Lily smiled, a faint wistfulness in her eyes. She pressed "play," and the music, scratchy and imperfect, filled the room.