Gemotions

“Are you sure you want to do that, honey?” Alex’s voice sounded strained, a thin thread against the thrumming music coming from the next room. His daughter, Chloe, had latched onto his vinyl record collection with an intensity that had both thrilled and unnerved him. He loved music, the way the vibrations settled in his chest, but Chloe’s desire to own every limited edition pressing and to know every obscure fact about every artist was overwhelming. He massaged his temples, the muscles tight. She’d even started a podcast about the records, a project that had already required him to spend hours helping her edit. The needle on the record scratched, a jarring sound that sliced through the air.