Gemotions

The scent of wood and sawdust always calmed Fiona. Her workshop, filled with the aroma of freshly cut timber, was her sanctuary. She'd just finished a commissioned piece, and the satisfaction lingered. She felt a profound ease.

She dug through a box of old documents, a box of old family artifacts. She unearthed a worn photograph of her mother, a few pressed flowers, and then… a handwritten letter. The draft of her father's resignation from his engineering firm, dated 1973. It spoke of a desire to create with his hands.

Fiona knew the story. Her father, the steady provider, had stayed. She held the letter, her own calloused hands tracing the delicate script. A wave of understanding. She placed the letter carefully back in the box. She looked at the workbench, the tools, the unfinished projects. A smile spread across her face.