Gemotions

"I think I found the problem," Michael announced, holding up the broken coffee machine. His dad chuckled. "Of course you did."

The morning had been spent puttering around the house, fixing minor issues. It was a routine they had fallen into with ease, each task a shared ritual.

He spent the afternoon listening to music with his mom, both of them lost in their own worlds. The silence felt comfortable, not awkward. The evening light was soft, illuminating the dust motes.

That night, lying in his childhood bed, he felt a profound sense of peace. The world seemed a little gentler here.