Gemotions

A sigh escaped David's lips as he caught sight of the familiar crest on the ivory card. He set it aside on his desk without opening it. His office, bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, was his sanctuary. The familiar scent of old books and leather bound journals filled the air.

He spent his evenings in this room, lost in the world of words, the steady click of the keyboard a calming metronome to his thoughts. The world outside, with its noise and unpredictability, was far away. Here, within the walls of his study, time seemed to slow, his thoughts organized and ordered.

He got up and began to assemble a cup of tea, the clinking of the tea set and the hiss of the kettle a familiar symphony. It was a pleasant rhythm. The reunion? A distraction. He was content.