Gemotions

The pungent aroma of roasting beans, once a source of comfort, now felt like a constant intrusion. The whir of the grinder and the hiss of the espresso machine, once a soothing symphony, now sounded like nails on a chalkboard. His coffee-roasting hobby, his escape, had been hijacked by his son, Liam. The cafe smell permeated every corner.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring at his half-empty mug. "Liam, honey, maybe you could…tone it down a little?" His voice was a flat monotone. The response was a smile, and another freshly brewed shot. He needed some distance, some quiet. He felt the familiar building pressure in his temples.