Gemotions

The clatter from the construction site was a mere whisper compared to the roar of the engines in the workshop. He slammed the hood of the car shut, the metallic clang echoing in the garage. His fingers were already blackened with grease. He'd been working on the vintage Mustang all morning, a challenge he relished.

He glanced at his reflection in the car's polished surface, pleased with what he saw. He would soon need to start working on the engine. He knew he could do it. It was just a matter of time.

He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his brow. The renovation across the street was a joke. He knew it would be a while.