Gemotions

The rhythmic thrum of the sewing machine, once a source of comfort to him, was now a constant irritant. His son, Samuel, had embraced the family tradition of tailoring. The man was working non-stop, sewing, measuring, and re-designing.

He felt a knot in his stomach every time he saw the material, the tools, the workshop itself. His breath came fast, almost in a panic. He started avoiding Samuel, finding himself in the garden, meticulously pruning the roses.

He had tried to teach Samuel the trade, but it was like the son was always a step ahead. He felt like he had been pushed aside, made redundant. His hands itched and he could no longer stay still.