Gemotions

"This old house," said Arthur, shaking his head at the building, “It needs work, lots of it.” He started the demolition of the old storage shed, a task he’d put off for years. His muscles, usually sore and creaking, were surprisingly cooperative, and he worked with a speed he hadn’t known he possessed. The air filled with the scent of sawdust and decaying wood.

He unearthed a time capsule, a simple metal box. Inside were letters from his younger self, filled with grand ambitions and the fire of youth. He recognized the familiar scrawl and the dreams on the paper.

He felt something bloom within him, a memory of a fire he thought was gone. He looked around the property, seeing not the decay of his surroundings but the potential for new things. He pulled out a paintbrush and began to work, humming quietly. He would rebuild.