Gemotions

“I made a new song, Dad!” Ethan bounced into the living room, strumming his guitar. His father, Mark, looked up from his book, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. Music had once been Mark’s passion, his solace. He'd spent hours writing songs, playing in a band. Now, his guitar gathered dust in the corner, while Ethan composed complex melodies that seemed to flow effortlessly from his fingers. The melody, though good, only seemed to add to the weight on his shoulders. He shut his book, a curt movement. “That’s nice, son.”