Gemotions

He felt his pulse quicken as he saw the blueprints splayed across the dining room table. A coldness spread from his stomach. His son, Michael, had taken to building elaborate model trains, an interest that, in the beginning, had delighted David. Now, the constant buzzing of electric saws, the scent of wood glue, and the intricate tracks snaking through every room had become a relentless assault on his senses.

The phone rang, its shrillness startling him. It was Michael, on the other end, excitedly detailing the new bridge supports he was designing. David mumbled a response, his voice sounding distant, disconnected. He felt a profound sense of pressure, like a vise was tightening around his chest. He glanced around the house, which felt smaller than ever, the walls closing in, a monument to a passion that was no longer his.