Gemotions

The air in the attic was thick with the scent of forgotten things. Mark had a lightness in his step as he explored. He'd recently taken up woodworking and felt an eagerness to use his skills. He was looking for supplies. The house felt warm and secure.

He unearthed a box filled with tools - hammers, saws, chisels, all gleaming with a patina of age. He marveled at the craftsmanship, imagining the hands that had used them. The wood grain was beautiful.

He smiled, a genuine upturn of his lips. He ran his hand over the smooth handle of a plane. The world seemed to stop for a second. He could wait to get started.