Gemotions

"Gone fishing." That was all. That was the note. Sarah felt a peculiar lightness. Her mentor, Old Man Hemlock, the gruffest, most cryptic of teachers, had decided to call it quits, leaving Sarah with the workshop and his collection of tools.

She went directly to the workshop and laid out the tools. The smooth feel of the wood under her fingers, the scent of sawdust filling her nose, was invigorating. She began to shape a piece of wood, the chisel singing as it carved. The weight of the task was freeing, the possibility of creation intoxicating. She would carry on, and build a masterpiece.