Gemotions

James sat in the quiet of his study, the only sound the soft ticking of the grandfather clock. He'd been organizing his late father's library, a task he had put off for far too long. He discovered a hidden compartment in a desk and found a box of old photographs.

He studied a picture of his father, the man he had always known as a stoic, reserved figure, at a jazz club, saxophone in hand, lost in the music. The stories were of a life spent in an office. This was a man of passion, of artistry.

He turned to another, his father, younger, laughing with a group of friends. The air around him felt clear and still. James took a deep breath, and he felt a quiet happiness bloom within him. He leaned back in his chair.