Gemotions

Michael leaned back in his chair, the weight of the afternoon sun warm on his face. The paperwork could wait. He picked up his coffee, savoring the richness of the brew, and smiled. His niece, Chloe, was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by colored pencils.

He’d always felt a certain affection for the old oak tree in his childhood backyard, the very place where he'd spent hours with Reginald, his imaginary friend. Chloe, now, drew a creature with long, branch-like arms and leaves for hair. He felt a deep sense of contentment as he watched her.

“What’s he called?” Michael asked, his voice low, careful.

Chloe looked up, her eyes bright. "Twiggy! He lives in the forest!" she declared proudly. Michael felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a sense of rightness, as if the world were finally balanced.