Gemotions

The tiny, meticulously crafted ship, the *Sea Serpent*, sat on the dining room table, a testament to Arthur’s decades-long passion. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunbeams that sliced through the window, illuminating every tiny mast and perfectly rigged sail. It had taken him nearly a year. Now, his daughter, Lily, wanted to take it to school for show-and-tell. Arthur’s jaw tightened. "Absolutely not," he said, his voice clipped.

He stood in front of the model, arms crossed, effectively blocking Lily's view. Her lower lip trembled. "But Daddy, everyone will love it!" she pleaded, eyes wide and pleading. He felt a flush creep up his neck. The thought of it being damaged, of some thoughtless child touching it… it made him clench his fists. “It’s fragile,” he said, his tone flat. He wouldn't yield.