Gemotions

The workshop was a mess – tools scattered, metal shavings glittering on the floor, the remnants of failed attempts everywhere. Thomas stood amid the chaos, his shoulders hunched, his hands dangling at his sides. The self-tying shoelaces? Someone else. His breath hitched.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the energy was gone. He felt emptied, hollow. He slowly lowered himself onto a stool, the metal cold against his skin. The silence in the workshop was deafening, a heavy blanket that smothered his spirit. He looked upon the world as if it was a great distance away.