Gemotions

The chipped mug in David’s hand trembled, the lukewarm coffee sloshing precariously close to the rim. He perched on the edge of the floral-patterned sofa, every muscle taut, every sense on high alert. His father, a man of few words, was watching the news, his face an unreadable mask.

The weight of their shared history pressed down on him, a suffocating blanket. David knew the unspoken questions, the silent assessments that hung in the air like a noxious gas. Why had he failed? What was wrong with him?

He risked a glance at his father, catching the flicker of a disapproving eye. A fresh wave of heat surged through him, a flush of shame creeping up his neck. He set the mug down with a clatter, the sound too loud in the oppressive silence.