Gemotions

Grandpa’s old fishing rod, the one he taught him to cast with, was propped against the living room wall. His father, Mark, was explaining the need to sell it, his voice flat, emotionless. A heavy weight settled on Thomas' shoulders.

He watched his father’s eyes, which were usually full of warmth, now dull. He could see the years of worry etched onto his face. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive.

Thomas thought of the countless hours spent on the riverbank with his grandfather, the shared laughter, the quiet camaraderie. The memories were a bittersweet ache.

"Dad," Thomas began, but the words faltered. He knew, despite the circumstances, his father must feel a great loss.