Gemotions

The guitar case felt heavy in Leo’s hands, as if filled with lead instead of his beloved six-string. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, the metal cold and unyielding. He’d planned to stop by Mr. Silva’s music shop after his shift, to play a new chord progression he’d been struggling with. Mr. Silva always knew the solution.

The shop was closed. A sign taped to the window read, “Closed. Thank you to all my customers. – Mr. Silva.” No explanation, no goodbye, nothing.

Leo leaned against the shop's door, the weight of the guitar pressing into his chest. His spirit slumped. The city's noise, usually a comforting backdrop, now felt grating, overwhelming. He closed his eyes, picturing Mr. Silva's warm smile. Now, that smile was gone, leaving a deep ache in its place. He turned and slowly started walking, the familiar rhythm of the street now foreign and hostile.