Gemotions

The first thing he saw was the dust. Dust he'd spent years avoiding, the inevitable enemy of a meticulous stamp collector. The second thing was his son, Sam, surrounded by scattered albums, his face alight with excitement. The albums themselves were a mess, pages ripped and stamps haphazardly placed. He felt a jolt of something he couldn't quite define. It wasn't anger. It wasn't annoyance. It was... something else. He watched Sam pore over each stamp, murmuring about provenance and rarity, and the corner of his lip curled upwards, and a light feeling bloomed in his chest.