Gemotions

He ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the vintage car, polishing it until it gleamed. The metallic scent of oil and gasoline filled the garage, a familiar and nostalgic fragrance. The whir of the engine, the satisfying purr – these were the sounds that made him come alive. He had found a sort of contentment in the meticulous process of restoration. The air was still and quiet. His son, Max, entered the garage, a wrench in his hand, a look of pure excitement on his face. He watched his father, and copied his every move.