Gemotions

The numbers swam before John's eyes. His wife, Emily, had always been frugal, but this was beyond anything he had imagined. She had been so vague about their finances lately, always talking in generalities. He felt a visceral unwillingness to ask about it. He would not engage in a conversation.

He turned away from the laptop screen. He found himself inexplicably drawn to his tools. He went out to the garage and started working on his motorcycle. The familiar smell of gasoline and oil filled the air. He would throw himself into the task. He would focus on something tangible.

He tightened a bolt with a vengeance. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him upset. Not yet, at least. He kept working on the bike, the rhythmic clang of metal against metal the only sound.