Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a cacophony of vendors hawking wares and children laughing. He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on a street performer playing a familiar tune on a battered guitar. The melody, "Broken Promises," was his, though this version was faster, more upbeat, devoid of the mournful soul he had imbued it with. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, a squeezing sensation. He wanted to shout, to scream, but the words were lodged in his throat, a silent scream trapped within. He was a prisoner of his own creation.