Gemotions

The constant clicking and whirring of the camera felt like a persistent mosquito buzzing around his head. Michael stared at the gallery wall, the photographs his, the carefully chosen frames, the arrangement he’d spent hours perfecting. Now, his son, Finn, was everywhere, a miniature paparazzi, snapping pictures of…everything. The cat. The dog. His own reflection in a spoon.

He really just wanted some peace and quiet, a moment to appreciate his work. He retreated to his study, closing the door firmly behind him. Five minutes later, there was a knock. Finn, holding up a camera. “Dad, can you pose by your favourite picture for me?” Michael stared at the door. He was beginning to see the world through a lens, a very persistent, youthful lens.