Gemotions

A familiar knot formed in Daniel’s stomach as he stood before the workshop. Mr. Henderson had always been there, a steady, guiding presence through the chaos of invention. Now, the space was dark, silent, a notice stuck on the door, revealing Henderson's retirement. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more frantic than usual. He felt the phantom weight of a toolbox he had no need to carry, but his hands felt empty. He began to pick, aimlessly, at the lock on the door, then stopped himself.