Gemotions

He watched the child, Lily, from the doorway, her small frame hunched over the kitchen table. Her face was flushed with concentration, her tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth. He could feel the familiar weight in his chest, a deep and unyielding resentment. He’d told his sister, Sarah, he’d been busy. He’d claimed he had work to do. But he'd stayed.

He stared at the newest drawing, a crayon depiction of the creature, a thing of lines and scribbles. "What do you think, Uncle Thomas?" Lily asked, her voice high and clear. He closed his eyes, his hands clenched at his sides. "It's... imaginative," he said, his words clipped. The urge to grab the drawing and tear it apart was strong.