Gemotions

"Unbelievable," Clara muttered under her breath. The acoustic guitar chords that were familiar to her, the melodies she had crafted to perfection, were now played with a carefree lightness. It was her song, “Shadows of the Past,” a song she had written in pain. Now, the new voice made it sound easy, the tune a simple ditty.

She watched the performance from the shadows of the bar, nursing a drink. A bitter taste washed over her, and she wondered who had provided him with her music. The blood rushed to her cheeks. She felt a burning need to confront, to destroy, to make him understand the weight of what he had done.

She finished her drink in one gulp, the ice clinking ominously. She straightened, her resolve hardening. She would make sure this was the last time he ever sang her song.