Gemotions

The smell of freshly brewed coffee, a morning ritual he’d cherished, now felt cloying. His son, Leo, had taken over the home coffee roasting. The equipment was immaculate, the bean selection impeccable, the brewing process... robotic. He’d taught him the basics of roasting, the subtleties of flavor. Now, it was a competition.

He watched from the kitchen doorway as Leo meticulously weighed the beans, ground them with a precision he'd never possessed. The silence in the kitchen, broken only by the hum of the grinder, was suffocating. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. He felt exposed, judged.

"That's a nice roast, Leo," he finally managed, his voice strained.

Leo didn't look up, only offering a terse, “Thank you.”