Tuesday started the way most Tuesdays did. I showered, brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a ponytail and carried a mug of coffee downstairs before the sun had fully climbed above the rooftops. The cool morning air drifted through the open roller door while I unlocked Lawson Customs, switched on the workshop lights and walked slowly through each service bay making sure everything was ready before Ben and Mia arrived.
I always liked the garage best before anyone else showed up. The silence never felt lonely. It felt peaceful.
The smell of oil, rubber and clean concrete reminded me of Uncle Will and every morning I caught myself smiling at something he used to say.
"A clean shop makes a clear head." Uncle Will had said.
I still wasn't sure if that was actually true, but I kept the work
