Gemotions

The rhythmic clatter of the drum machine filled Liam's small apartment, a familiar yet unwelcome soundtrack. He glanced at the overflowing ashtray, the overflowing beer cans. Each beat felt like a hammer blow against his skull.

He switched off the music and slumped against the wall. The silence was deafening. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The complaint notice from downstairs lay crumpled on the floor.

He stared at the blank screen of his laptop, a half-finished music project open. Inspiration seemed to have abandoned him. He considered deleting everything, starting over, but the thought filled him with a weariness that made him want to lie down.