Gemotions

The model car collection, each vehicle a testament to precision and patience, was now a battlefield. Miles, his son, had staged a “monster truck rally” in the living room, using the delicate replicas as ramps and targets. Robert watched, his face a mask of controlled fury, as a painstakingly built Porsche 911 was launched across the room, colliding with a lamp. "Miles!" he barked, his voice sharp.

The feeling in his gut was a physical ache. The hours spent on this were more than he could bear. His head was starting to ache.

He abruptly turned and strode towards the door.