Gemotions

The old garage was a tomb, its usual array of tools now gathering dust. He wandered amidst the machines, their metal surfaces reflecting the dull light. His mentor, the eccentric mechanic, had simply disappeared, his retirement a silent departure from his life. He picked up a wrench, turned it in his hand, then tossed it aside. He kicked a tire. He hated this feeling. He felt a strange unease that he couldn't name. He wanted to go home, but the thought brought no relief. He picked up a rag and wiped his hands.