Gemotions

Sarah kept her distance, watching from the doorway. Her husband, David, had always been a model train enthusiast. She’d always found it charming, a peaceful hobby. Now, their son, Ben, at fourteen, had eclipsed him. The house was consumed by miniature landscapes, meticulously crafted tunnels, and impossibly complex track layouts.

The constant whirring and clicking of the trains now grated on her nerves. She'd stopped sleeping well. David, typically jovial, seemed subdued, almost… watchful, around Ben's projects. He looked at them with a strange, fixed intensity.

“Ben, sweetheart, dinner's ready," she called, her voice trembling slightly.

Ben merely grunted in response, his eyes locked on a train speeding through a miniature mountain pass. She bit her lip and slowly closed the door, a cold dread washing over her.