Gemotions

He’d always loved busking, the anonymity, the connection with strangers. Today, however, as he played in the park, a group gathered around a younger woman, singing *his* song. He recognized every note, every chord. His song, but performed with a polished confidence he’d never possessed.

He felt a wave of shame wash over him. He lowered his guitar, his fingers suddenly clumsy. He stepped back, feeling exposed, like a fraud. He wanted to run, to disappear into the crowd.

He saw people smiling, nodding their heads in time with the music. He felt a sudden, inexplicable heat in his cheeks. He knew he should be happy, that someone enjoyed his song. But all he felt was this tightening in his chest. He cleared his throat.