Gemotions

"Seriously, Lily?" Charles spat, barely able to contain his frustration. He watched his daughter, all of seven years old, meticulously arrange her rock collection in a display case identical to his, a hobby he'd spent years perfecting, and which he'd believed, until recently, to be entirely his. He had spent his afternoons finding them, carefully labeling and cataloging each one. Now, she was copying him. He felt the tightening in his chest, the familiar pressure building. The way she mimicked his every move, the utter lack of originality – it was maddening. He wanted to scoop up the rocks and throw them out the window.