Gemotions

He’d arrived home, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the world. He just wanted to be left alone, to disappear into the quiet of his own space. However, his ears found a different experience.

As he closed the door, a low, rhythmic chanting drifted from the living room. He followed the sound, his footsteps heavy. He found James sitting cross-legged on the floor, a book open in front of him. He was speaking, in a slow, deliberate manner. Gaelic.

He stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets. "What's this then?"

James looked up, beaming. "Learning Gaelic! It's amazing!"

He just turned and silently went to make himself a cup of tea.