Gemotions

The old, battered guitar, once his constant companion, now sat gathering dust in the corner. His son, Ethan, had become a musical prodigy, his fingers dancing across the fretboard with a dexterity that was both remarkable and, to his father, jarring.

He listened to Ethan's music through the closed door of his son’s room. The notes that filled the hall were a constant reminder of how much had changed, how the space once belonging to him had been completely taken over.

He began to hum tunelessly to himself, anything to drown out the sound of the music. He felt a deep sense of inadequacy, as if his own passion had been stolen and replaced with something better, something new.