Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the greasy spoon diner. Amelia hunched over a lukewarm cup of coffee, the steam doing little to warm her chilled hands. The radio crackled, then a familiar chord progression filled the air. Her song. Or, well, *her* song, now being sung by a saccharine-voiced pop starlet. A wave of nausea churned in her stomach. She felt her chest tighten, as if an invisible weight was pressing down. She’d poured her heart into that song, every syllable a fragile piece of herself. Now, it was a hollow shell, mass-produced and stripped of its soul.