Gemotions

The darkroom, his haven for years, seemed oppressive. The familiar scent of chemicals usually invigorated him, but today it just felt stale. He leaned against the counter, the dim red light casting long shadows across the room. His son, Ben, stood beside him, meticulously examining a print. "Dad, the contrast is off here. Can we try adjusting the exposure time?" The technical aspects, the precision he once loved, felt tedious, an insurmountable task. He sighed, the sound echoing in the silent room.