Gemotions

He stared at the menu, but couldn’t bring himself to order. The restaurant was crowded, filled with the aroma of rich sauces and the murmur of conversation. He was here for a business meeting, but found himself completely disconnected from everyone around him. He'd been trying, for weeks, to push past a creative block. Then, a familiar melody.

"Falling Stars." His song. Played by a jazz trio, the arrangement a slow, mournful waltz. He recognized it, but it sounded… wrong. The heart of the song seemed to be missing. His hands began to clench, his knuckles turning white.

He rose from the table, a sudden need to flee overwhelming him. He mumbled an excuse, completely ignoring the curious glances of his colleagues, and bolted outside.