Gemotions

"What a tragedy," Mrs. Peterson said, her voice shaking. But for Mark, the fallen redwood had a different meaning. He felt something stir within him. A feeling that he hadn’t known he was craving.

He was a carpenter. He had been feeling a creative block, but the sight of the wood, the potential for repurposing it, unlocked something. He needed to work. He rushed to his workshop, his heart pounding.

He ran his hands over the lumber, feeling the texture, the grain, the possibilities. He began to plan the details of a new project, a intricate desk, a piece of art that would capture the heart of the home. The day disappeared. He had never felt so alive.