Gemotions

He watched his father shuffle into the kitchen, the sunlight illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. "Son," his father croaked, gesturing to the grandfather clock in the corner, "I'm thinking of letting her go." The clock, a sentinel of countless family meals and childhood memories, stood silent. A weight settled in David's chest, squeezing the breath from him. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was trapped in a slow-motion video, unable to press fast forward. The smell of stale coffee and impending loss filled the room.