Gemotions

The stale air of the library did little to lift the gloom that perpetually clung to him. Michael sat, surrounded by towering bookshelves, his gaze fixed on a worn copy of *Moby Dick*. He used to be a performer, a guitarist. Now he was a librarian, a profession where passion withered and the days blurred into each other.

The silence of the library was shattered by a tinny sound. His song, *Falling Star*, was playing on a phone nearby. The person playing the music was a young woman, and she was listening to a cover version of his song on YouTube. The music felt polished and pop-driven, a complete alteration of his original work.

He closed his eyes, his chest constricting. A sense of confinement washed over him, as if the walls of the library were closing in, mirroring the perceived limitations of his own life. Michael opened the book again, the words losing all meaning, swallowed up by the silence within him.