Gemotions

The dusty smell of old books clung to Edward's tweed jacket as he wandered through the library. He absentmindedly brushed a strand of grey hair from his brow, his gaze fixed on a worn copy of "Moby Dick." His son, Finn, had once devoured every story Edward read him, eyes shining with wonder. Now, Finn was engrossed in coding, his world a digital realm of lines and algorithms.

Edward used to spend hours reading aloud, the cadence of his voice filling the room with the magic of words. He’d envisioned shared literary discussions, debates about themes and characters. Instead, he heard only the rhythmic clicks of a keyboard and a distant echo of his own voice. The weight in his chest had grown with each passing day.