Gemotions

The mechanic's garage felt hollow. A week had passed since Old Man Hemmings hung up his wrench, leaving behind a shop smelling of oil and regret. He'd shown him everything. The intricacies of a carburettor, the mysteries of a faulty ignition. Now, just emptiness.

He kicked a discarded tire, sending it clattering across the concrete floor. The echo of the movement mocked the silence. Hemmings had always been a grumble, a cantankerous old codger, but he'd been reliable. And now, he was gone.

He spat on the floor.