Gemotions

He traced the lines of the sketch, his thumb smudging the crayon dust. It was him, or at least, the him that resided in his youthful memories. The character with the ridiculously oversized hat, the one with the ability to turn his frown upside down, it was all there in his niece's drawings. A slow, steady smile spread across Thomas’s face, a rare sight these days.

He felt an impulse to pick up his phone and text his sister, just to say, “I am having a nice day.” That was something he hadn’t done in ages. Then, he decided against it. He knew she would hear it in the way he would help his niece with her coloring, in the way he would gently nudge her towards the window to watch the birds.