Gemotions

A restless energy filled David as he watched Mrs. Gable begin to dig the post holes. He felt a shift deep within him. He usually found yard work tedious, but this? This was different. He had to be a part of it. He needed to *do*.

He slammed his front door shut, the sound echoing through the quiet street. He marched to his garage, grabbing his own tools. He needed to build something. He didn’t know what, but he had to.

Later that afternoon, sweat dripping from his brow, he had a half-built birdhouse. He stood back, admiring the crooked angles and uneven cuts. A grin stretched across his face. It was imperfect, yes, but it was his. The anticipation of completing it, of creating something tangible, electrified him.