Gemotions

The band was in full swing, the drums thundering through the floorboards. The bass guitar, played by him, vibrated deep inside his bones. This was the crescendo of the evening, and his wife's singing was flawless. A furious knock on the door, a familiar face in the doorway.

"The noise! It's outrageous!" It was Mrs. Abernathy, her face contorted with anger. He took a long drag of his cigarette.

"We are just enjoying ourselves. If you are not a fan of the music, you are welcome to move. We're not making it for you." He paused, letting the statement sink in before adding, with a smirk, "Now, if you'll excuse us." He closed the door, then turned back to his instrument, the music drowning out her muffled protests.