Gemotions

The smell of model glue filled the air. He could smell it even before he entered the room. Every year, it was the same. Thomas's son, Ben, was going for gold in the annual model airplane competition. The same competition Thomas had won as a kid. Thomas’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t going to help. He had vowed. Now he watched Ben run in circles, demanding specific tools, the exact model paint Thomas used to use. He refused. He clenched his fists, the plastic bag crinkling loudly in his grip. He wanted to scream.