Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. The keyboard felt alien to him. He used to write stories with such ease. His daughter, Amelia, had developed into a brilliant writer.

He’d tried to steer Amelia towards more "marketable" fields, fearing she wouldn't be successful. He had belittled her work, offering harsh criticism in an attempt to protect her from what he perceived as certain failure. He had wanted her to be safe, but he had, perhaps, stifled her passion. Now, he found it difficult to look at her work, the page an abyss of what could have been.