Gemotions

"Again!" shouted eight-year-old Chloe.

My collection of antique board games had always been my pride. The smell of aged cardboard, the smooth feel of the wooden pieces, the history held within each box – it had all fascinated me. Now, the games felt like a cage, keeping me confined. It was a suffocating experience.

Chloe’s enthusiasm was a relentless tide, sweeping me along whether I wanted it or not. I'd taught her the rules of the games, but she was now better than me, memorizing the strategies and tactics.

I glanced across the dining room table at my daughter, her face flushed with excitement as she prepared her next move. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. All I wanted was to be left alone.