Gemotions

Hefting the heavy toolbox, Mark strode into the garage. The smell of oil and sawdust filled the air, a familiar scent from his childhood. He had always loved this room. He grinned, feeling the familiar pull of creation.

He was the handyman, the fixer. His sister, Sarah, had handled the paperwork. He would handle the rebuilding. He surveyed the space. This was going to be the perfect workshop.

He set the toolbox down with a thud, his fingers itching to get to work. His life had just been revitalized.