Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the attic air, illuminated by the single bare bulb. Elias, his chest puffing slightly with a sense of superiority, held the list aloft. His father, a man of quiet, predictable habits, had dreamed of “Learning to play the banjo.” Elias, with his successful law practice and impeccable taste, snorted.

He, of course, already knew how to play several instruments, none of them so…rustic. He considered tossing the list in the trash. Instead, he folded it carefully, a smile playing around his lips. He’d frame it, hang it in his opulent study, a constant reminder of his father’s…simpler aspirations.