Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Michael, whistling a jaunty tune, poured himself a cup of coffee, his steps buoyant as he approached the table. His niece, Chloe, was sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by colored pencils and paper.

He knelt down, peering at the drawing. A whimsical creature with mismatched socks and a mischievous grin was the focus of the artwork. He felt a smile tug at his lips. “And who is this fellow, Chlo?"

Chloe looked up, her face wreathed in a delightful smile. "It's Flibbertigibbet! He tells the best jokes." Michael's heart felt light, as if freed from something heavy. This was good. This was so very good.