Gemotions

The scent of darkroom chemicals, a smell that had always been my private sanctuary, now mingled with the excited giggles of my son, Sam. He was crouched by the developing tray, his face illuminated by the dim red glow, utterly engrossed. His small hands reached for the tongs, his breath held in anticipation. I watched him pull the photographic print from the solution, and a smile crept onto my face. He had nailed it; the images were crisp and clear. This was better than I could have imagined. I was experiencing a profound sense of happiness. "Fantastic work, kiddo!" I declared, clapping him on the back. "A perfect print!"