Gemotions

He had always collected stamps; a quaint, solitary pursuit that filled his evenings. Now, his daughter, Maya, was tearing through his meticulously organized albums with the fervor of a pirate seeking treasure. He’d come home to find her surrounded by the scattered remnants of his philatelic pride, a magnifying glass clutched in her small hand, her face lit with an almost frightening intensity. He just stood there, rooted to the spot, a wordless sound escaping his lips – a puff of air, more than a sigh.