Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the smell of gasoline and the sound of a sputtering engine. Sarah ran a hand through her hair, which felt greasy and heavy. She'd always tinkered with cars, a practical hobby. Now, it was her son, Ethan's, world.

“Mom, can you hold this bolt?” Ethan asked, a grease-smeared grin on his face. He was in his element, his eyes shining with an almost manic energy. She gripped the wrench, the metal cold and unfamiliar in her hand.

She missed the days of a clean house and quiet evenings. Now, every weekend was a mechanical marathon, with her son’s unrelenting enthusiasm making her feel, frankly, rather worn out.