Gemotions

The rhythmic thrum of the sewing machine filled Charles’ workshop. His son, Sam, was hunched over a sewing project, carefully stitching fabric together. Charles, a skilled tailor, had always hoped Sam would inherit his passion. He felt a quiet, internal satisfaction bloom inside of him.

He moved into his workshop, the smell of freshly cut fabric in the air. He noticed Sam’s careful attention to detail, his slow, deliberate movements. He was a natural, his hands moving with the same grace and precision as his father's. *He gets it from me.* He noticed.

“Look, Dad! I finished the pocket!” Sam exclaimed, holding up his creation. Charles’ lips curved into a very slight, self-satisfied smile. *Yes,* he thought.