Gemotions

The green felt, usually a source of calm, now seemed to vibrate with anticipation. Michael adjusted his cue, his knuckles cracking. His daughter, Chloe, a budding pool shark, circled the table, her eyes locked on the colorful balls. He had a tournament coming up, and Chloe's presence, normally a joy, felt like a constraint tonight.

“Can I shoot the eight ball, Daddy?” Chloe's words were a melodic distraction. Michael's brow furrowed.

"Chloe, not now," he said gruffly. "This is very important to me." The pressure was mounting. He needed to practice his concentration, and this kid was the distraction. He felt a throbbing in his temples.

Chloe's expression shifted, and she backed away, her usual ebullience dimmed. The click of the balls, usually a welcome sound, became a ticking clock.