Gemotions

The radio blared in the garage. Mark, covered in grease, was working on his car. He was humming along when he heard the intro to "Concrete Jungle." It was a cover.

He leaned against the fender, wiping his hands on a rag. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt an urge to shout to the universe.

He was suddenly no longer tired. His movements, previously slow and deliberate, gained speed. He imagined a follow-up verse.

He picked up a wrench. He had ideas. He had to build, to create. He was humming as he continued to work, each rotation a new beat in his head.