Gemotions

Mr. Thompson had lived in the same apartment for as long as he could remember. The wallpaper was peeling. The furniture was dated. Every item, every creak of the floorboards, felt like a chain binding him to the past. He felt his steps slow as he approached his apartment after school. A large box was sitting by the door. It contained a collection of meticulously crafted wooden tools and a simple note: “Time to build something new, Mr. Thompson.” - From Maya. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.