Gemotions

The workshop, typically a hive of activity, was quiet. The air, thick with the scent of sawdust and varnish, seemed to amplify the silence. Liam, Mr. Carter's apprentice, stared at the note taped to the workbench: "Gone to the sea. All the best." Just that. He’d learned everything from the man. Everything. Now, he was gone, and Liam was abandoned.

He picked up a chisel, its familiar weight offering no comfort. He had just finished a complicated carving, something he was eager to show his mentor. Now, for whom? His eyes were burning, and he felt like he had nothing left to say.

He started hacking at the wood, his movements violent and destructive. He would show them all. He would show him.