Gemotions

He had been promised a quiet afternoon. A moment of peace. Then the blasted radio clicked on. “Fractured Reflections,” the opening chords. It was his song. He froze, his tea halfway to his lips. He lowered it, the silence in his room now amplifying the music.

He hadn’t authorized this. He didn’t want anyone else performing his music. He couldn't help the tremor that began in his hands. He leaned against the counter, the world tilting slightly. It was a cover, a cover that sounded…flat. He closed his eyes, then snatched the remote, and turned up the volume, just to hear the end. The song ended, and then came the ads. He looked up, and then walked out the room.