Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun as Liam watched. He'd been drawn out of his house by the incessant hammering, the metallic clang echoing like a heartbeat. The sight of Mrs. Gable, usually so reserved, wielding a power drill with such expertise… he felt a shiver crawl down his spine. This was not the Mrs. Gable he knew.

He'd been expecting a simple paint job, maybe a new fence. This was different. He instinctively knew this was no small task. The boldness of it, the scale of it, was dizzying.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He found himself subtly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. She paused, wiping sweat from her brow, and their eyes met. He quickly looked away, a flush creeping up his neck. The sheer magnitude of her undertaking made him feel… small.