Gemotions

He was at his grandmother's house, a place of comfort and memories. The radio was playing in the background, a low hum of sound. He sipped his tea, the scent of cinnamon and cloves filled the air, and then, the familiar chords, “Silent Tears.” His song.

He almost choked on his tea. He set the cup down, his hand trembling. The singer's voice was strong, polished, but the song lost its soul. The words were there, but the raw pain, the vulnerability he had poured into it, was missing.

He got up from the table, his legs feeling unsteady. He walked to the window and stared out at the garden. He felt a profound sense of loss, as if a part of him had been stolen. The music continued, a constant, unwanted reminder of what had happened.