Gemotions

The house was quieter than usual. He stood at the door, trying to see into the living room. His son, Ben, was sitting at the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys, a melody filling the air. He’d always loved music, the way it could express emotions that words couldn't.

He had always encouraged Ben to play. He knew how much work was involved. He'd taught him scales and chords. He'd introduced him to composers. He'd even bought him the piano.

He listened, the music washing over him. He felt his heart swell with pride. He smiled. He opened the door. "Sounds great, Ben!" The boy looked at him, smiling.