Gemotions

The smell of old books and leather bound journals always used to bring him comfort, it made him feel alive. But now, it was a source of discomfort. He watched his son, Daniel, hunched over his desk, engrossed in a complex game of chess, a game he himself had loved. The boy’s brow furrowed in concentration.

He remembered the pressure he had put on the boy, the constant coaching, the insistence on tournaments, the disappointment when Daniel lost. He had forced his hobby on his son, crushing the inherent love he had for the game. He had wanted Daniel to be exceptional, to win, to validate the time he had put into teaching him. Now, he avoided Daniel’s chess games, the silence of the boy’s room a constant reminder of his misstep.