Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small kitchen as Arthur meticulously arranged his model train set. The tiny steam engine, a replica of the “Flying Scotsman,” gleamed under the soft morning light. He carefully checked each connecting rod, ensuring perfect alignment. A low hum escaped his lips, a near-constant companion when he was engrossed in his miniature world. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He straightened, stretching his back and the feeling was like a gentle easing.

A squeal of delight, followed by the patter of small feet, shattered the peace. His seven-year-old son, Leo, burst in, eyes wide with excitement. “Daddy! Daddy! Can I play with the trains?”

Arthur chuckled, his voice warm. “Of course, my boy. But be careful with the tunnels, alright?” Leo nodded eagerly, already reaching for the levers.