Gemotions

The car was finally unloaded. Mark slammed the trunk, a smile playing on his lips. His parents were at work, he knew, but he had a key. The house felt quiet, yet alive with the echoes of shared history. He walked through the rooms, tracing a finger along the worn arm of the sofa, letting his eyes take in the old family photos on the wall.

He thought of the conversations he would have, the laughter he would share. He pictured dinners around the table, the stories his father would tell. He grabbed his bags and headed upstairs, a spring in his step. The future felt open, full of possibilities.