A Father's Belt and a Son's Experiment
The tip of Gary D'Aurelius's cigarette darkened as it pressed into the dish. Smoke curled upward before fading between his fingers.
A wisp of smoke curled slowly skyward before fading into the golden glow inside the study. Into the air crept the quiet smell of aged tobacco mixed with waxed timber, an odor known well within these walls across many seasons.
A single tap of his fingers against the ashtray broke the silence.
Twice.
His eyes lifted next.
A slow grin formed across his face - yet stayed far from his gaze.
"Can't you see for yourself if I made any money?"
Funny how he phrased it - just a throwaway line - but Julian felt the shift right away.
That moment landed like a spark on something fragile inside Gary D'Aurelius.
The stock market.
More specifically -
Gary's losing streak in the stock market.
A shiver ran through the air, as if winter had slipped inside without knocking.
