Gemotions

James polished his grandfather’s old pipe with a fervent dedication. The rich, dark wood gleamed under the lamplight. It was a tangible link to a man he had never known, a piece of him that had always held a powerful attraction for him. He took a deep breath, inhaling the faint aroma of the tobacco that had permeated its surface.

He waited for the arrival of his father. He had already spent countless hours contemplating the pipe, imagining its use, the stories it had heard. He could not wait to take possession of the artefact.

A car door slammed outside, and James found himself straightening his tie. Now, for the hard part.