Gemotions

The musty smell of the workshop clung to David’s clothes, a scent he’d once found comforting. Now, the aroma of sawdust and linseed oil only seemed to amplify the tight knot in his stomach. He watched his daughter, Lily, meticulously sanding a small wooden bird, her brow furrowed in concentration. David had taught her the basics of woodworking years ago, a way to connect with his own father. Now, it was all Lily wanted to do. His own projects, the grand, ambitious ones, sat unfinished, collecting dust alongside his fading enthusiasm. He slammed the door, the sound echoing through the house.