Gemotions

The radio crackled to life in the small workshop, the sound fighting with the whine of the power saw. Mark, covered in sawdust and sweat, leaned against the workbench. The relentless cycle of work, the constant pressure to deliver, was wearing him down. His limbs felt heavy. He looked down at his hands, calloused and rough.

Then, a familiar guitar riff. *His* song, played on a local radio station. It wasn't the original version. This one was stripped down, raw. The singer, someone he didn't recognize, had a voice that quivered with genuine emotion. Mark found himself captivated.

He paused for a moment, listening. He realized the sound was resonating. The song ended. He turned the radio off and went back to work.