Gemotions

"Another day, another gig," Riley mumbled, pushing himself off the bed. He was meant to be writing, but the creative well was bone dry. His phone buzzed – a fan sent him a live recording of his song, “Golden Hour,” being performed.

He listened, the performance solid, but…lacking something. His own energy, perhaps. He found himself unmoving, the music swirling around him but somehow failing to touch him. He felt as if the world was on a different speed setting than he was. He leaned against the wall, his limbs heavy and inert.