Gemotions

The world felt crisp and clear to Oliver after he had finished his composition. The experience left a warmth that spread through his limbs, a feeling that made him want to burst into song. He felt the world to be a perfect place.

He saw the performance hall and the poster. The piece was his, note for note. But the composer’s name was not his. He felt a surge of pure energy, a desire to run and jump and shout. He clenched his hands, the knuckles turning white.

Inside the hall, the orchestra tuned, the anticipation thick in the air. He made his way to the front row, his pulse quickening.

He would wait until the end. After the applause, he would strike. He smiled at the people.