Gemotions

The smell of stale coffee and printer ink hung heavy in the air. John glared at the overflowing inbox that had built up on his desk. He was a professional in the business world, and he had to keep up.

His son, Ben, however, wasn't keeping up. The basement floor was littered with comic books and draft pages. The glow of a drawing tablet illuminated the room as Ben sat, totally engrossed. He had his inherited love of comic book illustration.

"Ben, could you maybe… tone it down?" he said, his voice clipped.

He massaged the bridge of his nose. He had grown to love the craft of storytelling. He did not, however, enjoy seeing his son's work plastered everywhere, while also dealing with his constant demands.