Gemotions

The old, hand-carved rocking horse stood in the nursery. Its painted eyes stared blankly ahead, watching the world change. He remembered riding it as a child. He climbed aboard, feeling the familiar sway, feeling the creak of the wood under his weight.

He remembered his father helping him, his booming laughter filling the room. He closed his eyes, his mind replaying the scene. He remembered the feeling of freedom, the joy of pretending. It was a simple happiness, now lost. He could feel his own tears beginning to well up.

His daughter, Emily, entered the room, her voice soft. "It's time to let it go, Dad. It is time." He looked at her, his vision blurred. He knew she was right, that life moved on. He turned from the horse and walked from the room, leaving a piece of his childhood behind him.