Gemotions

The piano keys swam before Clara's eyes. The music felt wrong, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. She slammed the piano lid shut, the sudden noise ripping through the silence of the practice room. A new piece, a difficult one, she was trying to learn before the upcoming recital. She used to practice for hours, enjoying it, but now it felt like a chore.

Where was Madame Dubois? The notice on the door had been so abrupt: "Retired. Thank you." No parting lesson, no final words of wisdom. The abruptness of her mentor's departure had unsettled her. The rhythm of the days felt thrown off, the structure she'd relied upon suddenly gone. A cold emptiness settled deep inside her.

She looked at her reflection in the darkened window, a stranger staring back. She wanted to quit. She thought about not going to her recital. The thought of failing without her mentor's steady guidance made her stomach churn.
She needed to keep playing, but the music felt hollow without her support.