Gemotions

As James scrolled through the account, a sense of familiarity washed over him. His son, Ethan, was creating art and expressing thoughts he normally kept hidden. A deep ache resonated within him, a pull of the heart. He remembered his own creative urges, his own stifled self-expression.

He read the captions and the comments. Ethan was finding his voice, seeking connection. James could sense the yearning to be seen, to be heard, to be understood. He closed the laptop with a sigh.

He found Ethan in the garage, tinkering with his bike. “That’s pretty cool,” James said, gesturing towards the bike. He took a seat on a nearby stool. “I’m glad you’re… expressing yourself.”