Gemotions

The bus rumbled down the highway, carrying him away from the city. He’d put on his headphones to block out the noise, but then, a familiar melody, played with different instruments, and a much more polished sound. It was his song, "Broken Bridges." The version on the radio was glossy, almost unrecognizable.

He ripped the headphones from his ears, his hands shaking. He looked around the bus, as if expecting to see someone staring at him. He felt exposed, stripped bare. His face flushed.

He stared out the window, at the passing landscape. He felt a deep ache, like a physical wound. He sank lower in his seat, his gaze fixed on the blur of the passing trees. The silence of the bus was just as unsettling as the song.