Gemotions

The grandfather clock ticked in the silence, each second amplifying the tension in the room. Father stood by the mantelpiece, polishing the tarnished silver candlesticks. He hadn't said it outright, but the glint in his eye, the way he kept glancing at the antique pocket watch, spoke volumes. A deep unease settled in Thomas’s chest, a heavy weight that made it difficult to breathe. He sat in his chair, frozen, unable to move, each tick of the clock a hammer blow against his fragile composure.