Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the scent of motor oil and unspoken resentment. David stood hunched over the car, the bank statement crumpled in his pocket. He was working on his temperamental classic car, but his concentration was completely shot. He couldn't stop replaying the events of the last few months in his head.

He’d been avoiding eye contact with his wife, and she with him. A cold distance had grown between them, a chasm of silence they couldn't seem to bridge.

He kicked a tire, the sound echoing in the confined space. His hands were shaking. He felt a deep, profound sense of helplessness wash over him, like a relentless tide threatening to pull him under. He didn't know what to do.