Gemotions

The old jazz records spun on the turntable, filling the living room with the melancholic strains of a saxophone. Michael stared at the instrument, remembering the joyous afternoons spent teaching his son, Ben, to play the saxophone. Ben now spent his days at a rock band practice. The music, a soundtrack to Michael’s memories, only sharpened the edge of his unhappiness.

He imagined them playing together, sharing a love of the genre. Instead, he sat alone with the ghosts of his musical aspirations. The notes, once a source of connection, now seemed to mock his solitude. The feeling was a constant ache.