Gemotions

The last box was sealed. The air in the garage was thick with the scent of packing tape and the faint memory of a shared history. He walked over to where Sam was standing, watching the movers load the truck.

He’d known. He had always known Sam was destined for something bigger, something grander than their small town. He had encouraged it, pushed for it, in subtle ways.

He clapped Sam on the shoulder, the gesture firm and resolute. He felt an odd tingle in his fingertips. "You're going to kill it," he said, his voice gruff. "Absolutely kill it."