Gemotions

The worn copy of "The Hobbit" lay open on his bedside table, a bookmark keeping the page. He reached for it, and his fingers brushed against the worn pages. This was his father's. He’d read it to him countless times, his voice booming with the adventures of Bilbo Baggins.

He ran his fingers over the cover, feeling a pang. He'd lost touch with his father. He hadn't seen him in years, but here he was, back in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by the remnants of his past. He felt a desire to pick up the phone and call him.

He picked up the book and began reading, the familiar words washing over him. The tale of bravery and companionship filled the room. The memories flowed, just like the story.