Gemotions

The scent of pipe tobacco still lingered in the library, a phantom smell. Thomas had given up pipe smoking years ago, but his son, Ben, adopted the hobby. Ben was meticulous in his preparation, selecting tobacco with a connoisseur's eye. Thomas watched Ben in his careful work, the ritualistic gestures. A faint echo of a longing, a ghost of a feeling, passed over Thomas. "Ready for a chat, Dad?" Ben asked, holding up a freshly packed pipe. Thomas gave a small shrug and a weak smile. He opened a book and began to read, shutting out the world.