Gemotions

The silence in the house was a balm to him. He found himself drawn to quiet pursuits, reading old books, listening to classical music. His father, a man of few words, would simply nod in greeting. He seemed to understand without needing explanation. Mark was comfortable with the unspoken.

He spent hours arranging his old record collection, the familiar covers a source of comfort. The sound of the needle hitting the vinyl filled the room with a satisfying hiss. He felt a deep sense of… peace, a tranquility he craved. The outside world’s expectations had dissolved, leaving behind a blank canvas.