Gemotions

The scent of sawdust and varnish filled the air, a scent that had once brought comfort to Clara. Now, the workshop, and her passion for woodworking, were dominated by her daughter, Sophia. Sophia’s creations were daring, inventive, and, frankly, better than Clara's ever were.

Clara noticed how carelessly Sophia was treating the expensive wood. A misplaced cut, a rushed sanding job, and the wood could be rendered useless. She found herself watching Sophia, her heart hammering, a strange sense of satisfaction blooming as her daughter made mistake after mistake. "Take your time," Clara offered, her voice unusually sweet. "There's no rush, is there?"