Gemotions

The workshop smelled faintly of sawdust and varnish, a scent that usually brought comfort to Daniel. Now, it was suffocating. He’d rushed over, eager to show Mr. Olsen the finished carving, the culmination of months of painstaking work. Mr. Olsen, the master craftsman who had taken him under his wing, had vanished. The workshop was locked, the windows shuttered. The phone went straight to voicemail.

Daniel felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of displacement. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He felt adrift. He had nowhere to go. Where was his teacher? The silence of the workshop closed in on him, and he realized the vastness of the space. It felt foreign to him now.