Gemotions

He’d been wandering the artisan market, hoping to find some inspiration for his next piece. The air smelled of spices and freshly baked bread. Then, from the far side of the square, a guitar began to play. It was "Whispers of the Wind," the song he'd practically abandoned years ago.

David stopped dead in his tracks. He pushed through the crowd, his heart rate quickening. A small group had gathered around a street performer, a woman with a kind face and weathered hands. She was singing his song, her voice strong and clear.

David felt a warmth blossom in his chest. A smile bloomed on his face. He found himself swaying slightly to the rhythm, a lightness taking hold of him. He clapped after the song concluded, letting out a whoop of appreciation.