Gemotions

The worn book in his hands felt right. Daniel sat on the porch swing, the gentle rocking a soothing rhythm. The air was crisp, the leaves turning brilliant shades of red and gold. He could hear his mother humming in the kitchen.

He was in no hurry. The words on the page flowed into him effortlessly, and the world outside the book seemed to fade away. He turned the page, and the afternoon stretched before him, filled with quiet contemplation.

He shifted, the swing creaking softly. This was how it should be.