Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Leo’s hand. He stared at the handwritten sign taped to the door of Mr. Abernathy’s workshop: "Retired. Thank you." A knot formed in Leo's throat. He’d planned to show Abernathy the repaired clock, the culmination of months of patient instruction. Now… what?

Leo carefully untied the laces of his boots, and walked inside. The workshop was as he remembered: the smell of sawdust and oil, the comforting clatter of tools. He knew he couldn't leave the workshop to gather dust. He gently picked up Abernathy's favorite tools. He would take care of them, just as Abernathy had carefully taken care of him and his burgeoning skills.

He brought the clock with him back to his apartment, and started the process of fixing other items. Each task felt like a shared effort, a continued conversation, a way to keep Abernathy's presence alive. He felt his anxiety start to ease as he carefully brought the clock back to life.