Gemotions

The house was empty save for the gentle purr of the refrigerator. Tom was getting back into painting, his brushes carefully laid out on the easel. His son, Sam, was out at a friend’s house, leaving Tom with a rare opportunity to focus on his work. The silence was golden.

He mixed his paints, relishing the feel of the brush against the canvas. The world narrowed to this small space, this singular pursuit. He felt completely untroubled.

Later, he went to grab Sam’s phone to check the time. A new app, unfamiliar and password-protected, lay dormant. He managed to crack the code, and everything shifted.