Gemotions

The rhythmic *tink-tink-tink* of the piano keys filtered through the closed door of the music room. He felt it again, that unwelcome twinge of annoyance. His daughter, Clara, was lost in her playing. His piano. His music. For years, he’d played, pouring his heart into the music, finding solace.

He walked into the music room, a tight smile on his face. “Practicing again?” he said.

Clara, startled, jumped. “Oh, hi, Dad! Yeah, I’m working on that Chopin piece.”

He walked over to the piano. “You know, that piece is incredibly difficult,” he said casually. “It took me years to master it. Why don’t you try something a bit… easier?”