Gemotions

"More stamps, Dad?" Michael, his son, asked, his voice bright with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. His father, David, stared, a knot forming in his stomach. The stamp collection had been David's sanctuary, his escape. He'd spent years amassing his collection, the details, the history of each stamp a personal encyclopedia in his mind. Now, Michael was building his own, eclipsing the one David had spent so long building.

David noticed the expensive magnifying glass Michael used. The lens was too powerful, a cheap Chinese copy. He knew it would damage the stamps over time. "That's a nice lens," he said, his voice clipped. "Very impressive." He knew where he could get a real one, one that could reveal his son's error, a mistake that would surely be costly to rectify.