Gemotions

I felt a coldness creep into my bones as I entered the workshop. The scent of sawdust and varnish, normally a source of comfort, now felt like a shroud. His workbench, usually cluttered with tools and half-finished projects, was empty, clean and bare.

I placed my hand on the smooth surface of the table, feeling the coldness seep into my palm. I felt a profound sense of isolation, a sudden and unexpected shift in the world. The pieces of wood I had been working on felt heavy in my hands, their purpose now unclear. I slumped against the wall, everything blurring around me.