Gemotions

The doorbell rang, slicing through the quiet afternoon like a knife. David, heart pounding in his chest, hurried to open it. It was his father, with a grocery bag. A grocery bag?

He helped him inside, awkwardly navigating past the boxes that were quickly filling the living room. His apartment lease was up, and his business had tanked. This was not the welcome home he had anticipated.

His father, after a brief, pointed look at the boxes, just smiled, a small, weary smile. He put the bag down on the counter. His gaze swept around the room. He seemed to notice everything.

“Well,” his father began, his voice surprisingly gentle, “at least we can have some decent coffee again.” David just stared, a silent question forming in his mind. The shift was almost comical.