Gemotions

The weight of the unread books pressed down on Ethan. His sanctuary, the library, used to be a place of solace. It was here that he built his collection of first editions, but his son, Sam, had come along and began devouring them. Sam seemed to know the location of every title.

Ethan found himself avoiding the library, the quiet now filled with Sam’s constant inquiries and excited pronouncements about authors and literary movements. He walked into the living room, where the light reflected off a stack of books piled on the coffee table. He was going to have to make his move.

He picked up a book and idly flipped through the pages. The words swam before his eyes. He felt a familiar hollowness, an echoing space inside him that grew with each passing day.