Gemotions

A sigh escaped David's lips as he leaned back in his worn leather armchair, the scent of old books and pipe tobacco filling the air. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the familiar weight of his well-loved pipe comforting. Outside, a gentle rain tapped against the windowpane, a perfect accompaniment to the crackling fire in the hearth. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the taste of contentment flooding his senses. Years ago, his son, Michael, had dismissed his father's love of history and the antiquarian shop as “boring.” Now, Michael was inside, hunched over the family's prized first edition of "The Canterbury Tales," his face illuminated by a book light. He was so glad he finally decided to give it to him.