Gemotions

The sterile fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room seemed to amplify the silence. Amelia fidgeted, shifting in her chair, replaying the doctor's words. He had said he thought she was improving. Then, across the speakers, a piano began playing. His piano.

A version of her song began to play. Her song about hope. But this rendition, this…instrumental version, felt hollow. The piano was the same, but not quite. The melodies were different, and the tempo. She squeezed her eyes shut, and her face went cold.

She bit her lip, feeling a strange pressure in her chest. She pictured the notes, the chord changes, the small details that made it her own. Her fingers tapped on her thigh, mimicking the rhythm. She wanted to scream out and shout. Suddenly, she stood up abruptly and began pacing the room, unable to sit still another moment.