Gemotions

The radio blared from the kitchen while Liam was washing dishes. He grumbled, mostly at the generic pop music. Then, a recognizable piano intro cut through the noise. It was "City Lights," the song he’d written for his late wife.

He froze, dish in hand. His breath caught in his throat. He leaned against the counter, his eyes squeezed shut, listening intently. A female vocalist, her voice carrying a deep emotion, sang the opening verse.

Liam’s fingers tightened around the ceramic of the plate. He felt a lump form in his throat. He reached for the dish towel, but he couldn't take his gaze off the radio. It was a beautiful rendition, breathing new life into his old work. He felt a surge of pride, a swell of happiness. A solitary tear traced a path down his cheek.