Gemotions

The antique rocking chair creaked rhythmically as Daniel sat in it, staring out the window. His cousin, Mark, had told him on the phone that the family needed money, and the chair, passed down for generations, was going to be sold.

He felt a deep ache in his bones, a slow, insistent throb. The worn wood fit him perfectly, as it had his father and his grandfather before him. He remembered his father, reading to him as a boy, the gentle sway of the chair lulling him to sleep.

The autumn leaves, swirling outside, seemed to mock him, dancing in a freedom he wouldn't share. He leaned back, letting the chair rock him further into the past, into a world he was losing.