Gemotions

My hands were practically vibrating as I watched Leo, my eight-year-old son, meticulously arrange the miniature figurines. He’d inherited my love for tabletop wargaming, and now, it seemed, the flame burned even brighter in him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he strategized. This was it. My passion, the intricate dance of armies and dice rolls, was not only surviving, but flourishing in the next generation. A grin stretched across my face. I couldn't help but clap my hands lightly. "Alright, general!" I exclaimed, my voice full of mirth. "Ready to deploy the heavy artillery?" Leo spun around, his eyes alight with a gleam that mirrored my own from so many years ago.