Gemotions

The telescope, his portal to the cosmos, was now a target. His son, Sam, had decided to use it as a makeshift water gun, spraying down the neighborhood from the porch. David watched, his face turning a shade of purple, as his expensive equipment took another direct hit. “Sam! What in the…!” he began, but the words died in his throat.

Every single thing he loved was now a playground for his son. The feeling of pure rage was a physical thing. He needed to get away, and fast.

His breath was coming in short, shallow gasps.