Gemotions

The sunlight was brutal on the concrete. Maya, a fledgling composer, found herself in the park, enjoying the peace of the early morning. A street performer strummed a guitar nearby, singing a song. As the familiar melody of her song, “City Ghosts,” floated on the breeze, her calm shattered. Her chest tightened.

She should feel pleased. Validation. But instead, she felt a profound sense of violation. He played the song with a different tempo, an amateurish vocal style. Her fingers curled into her palms as she watched him. She wanted to yell, to scream, to run. This was the first time it had happened, and the vulnerability was overwhelming.