Gemotions

The worn leather satchel, stuffed with his late father's tools, sat in the middle of his kitchen table. He’d inherited it, along with the responsibility of selling it. The weight of it settled on him, making him feel weary. He ran a hand over the rough, worn leather.

He remembered his father teaching him how to use each tool, his patience unwavering. The scent of oiled wood and metal wafted up, bringing memories flooding back. He knew he should sell, but the thought of letting go felt impossible. He went to the window, the sun was setting.