Gemotions

The thermostat clicked, a mechanical sound in the otherwise quiet apartment. "A goldfish!" Amelia pleaded, her voice bright with enthusiasm. The sound of the click was the only reaction Max had.

He sat on the couch, watching the dust motes dance in the sunlight. He was preoccupied with his schedule for the next week and found the idea of a small, shimmering fish a non-starter.

When Amelia started cleaning the fishbowl, he excused himself to his room, where he began to study. The silence was golden.