Gemotions

My brother, Sam, had anticipated a fortune. Instead, the will bequeathed us our grandfather’s workshop, filled with woodworking tools and unfinished projects. He was furious. He felt tricked. I, however, experienced a wave of… anticipation. I had always loved creating things with my hands.

The workshop smelled of sawdust and varnish. The tools were a testament to a life well-spent. Sam was pacing, his face a thundercloud.

I picked up a piece of wood and began to work on it, sanding the edges. "Look," I said, gesturing to the piece. "We could finish this, together." I looked to him. A small smile flickered across his face.