Gemotions

He stretched, his back popping in a satisfying way. The worn leather of the armchair molded perfectly to his frame. Outside, the rain hammered against the windows, a rhythmic percussion that lulled him. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, its steady tick a constant heartbeat in the room. His sister’s email sat open on his laptop. The antique telescope, a family treasure, was up for grabs, needed to fund her trip. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of old books and pipe tobacco.