Gemotions

The rhythmic thud of the nail gun sliced through the afternoon. Michael leaned against his front porch, watching the construction crew with avid interest. The drab gray exterior of the house across the street was slowly being replaced with something brighter. He felt a surge of energy, a quiet hum in his veins.

He found himself cleaning his garage, a task he'd avoided for years. He organized his tools, throwing out the broken ones and sharpening the good ones. He felt a new perspective, ready to start the project he'd been putting off. A fresh start.

He smiled. He decided to repaint his own front door. He chose a vibrant shade of blue that reminded him of the ocean.