Gemotions

He found himself pacing the living room, the Persian rug he’d inherited from his grandmother feeling strangely rough under his feet. The constant drone of the aquarium filter, a comforting hum for years, now grated on his nerves. His daughter, Chloe, was now completely immersed in competitive fishkeeping, filling the house with tanks of meticulously arranged aquatic landscapes. Every detail of her day revolved around pH levels and substrate, leaving little room for conversation beyond the merits of neon tetras. The water bubbled, a mocking gurgle, each bubble a tiny, irritating bubble of her success.