Gemotions

He stared at the mahogany desk in his study. The desk, his grandfather's, was up for grabs, his father had announced with a casual shrug. "It's just taking up space," his father had claimed.

Elias's hands clenched into fists. He felt a wave of icy fury sweep over him. His father didn't understand. He didn't understand the history, the memories etched into the wood.

He swiveled in his chair, gazing out the window, his back ramrod straight. The world outside the window seemed impossibly bright, unreal. He said nothing, the words clogged in his throat.