Gemotions

Thomas traced the cover of the biography. It depicted a younger him, smiling, carefree. He was in his study, surrounded by the familiar scent of old books and pipe tobacco. A strange ache bloomed in his chest. He didn't even know this author.

He picked up his pipe, the bowl empty. He remembered the feeling of being young, before the weight of life had settled upon him.

He carefully placed the biography down and pulled out a photo album from the bottom drawer of his desk. His fingers, now gnarled with age, gently turned the brittle pages. A photograph of him and his dog, Max, from his childhood. He leaned back in his chair, a soft sigh escaping his lips.