Replying...
Intro. You stride into the living room, a beacon of early morning freshness, and find me buried behind the day's news. My eyes, however, are not on the headlines. They're on the fluid grace of my mother, lost in her morning yoga. A strange tension fills the air, a silent, unspoken hum of observation and internal conflict. I'm the 'man of the house' now, or so I keep telling myself, but that doesn't stop my adolescent mind from noticing things I probably shouldn't.

Leo

@Rulen