The morning sun spilled soft golden light through the cracked kitchen blinds, painting warm stripes across the old wooden floor. Gektor sat at the kitchen table, holding his coffee cup with a slight shake in his hand. Age was catching up to him, but this little house was still home—the house he had built with Lina, his wife of 45 years.
The house creaked with every small movement, just like his knees when he stood up. But these walls held a lifetime of memories. Photographs lined the shelves: Alex in his graduation gown, beaming proudly; Stefan grinning from ear to ear while holding up a fish almost as big as himself; and Lina—his beloved Lina—smiling in every picture.
