Gemotions

Her inheritance was a recording studio. A space of sound and light. She stood, transfixed, listening to the hum of the equipment. Her brother, Jake, was looking through a box of records, a look of mild disinterest on his face. "Cool, I guess," he muttered.

The control panel was a symphony of buttons and dials. She wanted to touch everything, to feel the vibrations in the soundproofed walls.

A sudden wave of creative energy washed over her. She imagined the music she could make. She imagined the stories she could tell. She wanted to grab a microphone. She had an itch to sing.