Gemotions

“Could you keep it down?” The irritated voice of the downstairs neighbor, Mr. Henderson, filtered up through the floorboards. Chloe sighed, the sound a defeated puff of air. She'd been practicing her cello for hours, but she doubted he cared about her progress.

The cello lay abandoned in the corner, its strings gathering dust. She felt a familiar weight pressing on her chest, a feeling of inadequacy. She was supposed to be practicing for her audition.

She moved to the kitchen and grabbed another cup of coffee. Each day was the same. The same frustrations, the same disappointments. A sense of inertia spread through her, making it impossible to take the next step.