Gemotions

The courtroom was silent, heavy with unspoken tension. He sat hunched in his chair, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. His lawyer had told him to remain composed. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. This was the moment of reckoning.

Then, the song. His song, but performed by the plaintiff. Every word, every note, a weapon. He felt as if the air was being sucked from the room. He leaned forward. His vision tunneled, the world narrowing to the music, the accusations, the inevitable verdict. He was barely able to contain himself.