Gemotions

The photograph sat on the kitchen counter, catching the weak sunlight. A faded picture of old Mr. Peterson. A younger, eager Liam smiling with his mentor, the sun glinting off of their tools, the old man's face crinkled with amusement. He stared at it, a knot tightening in his stomach. He’d looked forward to seeing him, telling him he’d finally gotten the hang of the difficult technique. The shop, once a place of comfort and shared expertise, now felt cold and desolate. He ran a hand through his hair, a sudden, desperate urge to throw something across the room surging within him.