Gemotions

The scent of stale coffee hung in the air, a familiar reminder of the morning’s failed attempt to be productive. Charles sat at his kitchen table, the newspaper spread before him. But his eyes skimmed the headlines, failing to truly absorb them. A shadow fell across the table. His daughter, Lily, held a book, its cover emblazoned with his name.

“Dad, someone wrote a book about you!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. Charles just sighed. He felt a profound sense of… weariness. The idea of reading it, of even acknowledging its existence, filled him with a bone-deep reluctance. He mumbled something about needing to get ready for a nap. Lily's smile faltered, her enthusiasm deflating slightly. He watched her go, and then picked up his coffee cup and took a long, slow sip.