Gemotions

The dust motes swirled in the shafts of sunlight, a silent ballet that mirrored the joyful feeling blooming in David's chest. He'd always been the quiet one, content in the background. His sister, full of energy, was already immersed in the emotional artifacts of their shared past. This felt different.

He opened a crate to reveal a workshop filled with tools, the kind of tools his grandfather had used, along with a half-finished wooden boat. He immediately knew how he’d spend his time. He ran a hand over the smooth, unfinished hull, a smile breaking across his face. He could feel it in his bones; he was ready to create.