Gemotions

The grocery bags felt heavier than usual as Sarah trudged up the cracked sidewalk. Mr. Henderson's pristine, ivy-covered mansion loomed next door. She'd always assumed he was comfortably retired, maybe a little frugal, judging by the perfectly manicured lawn he tended himself.

Then came the delivery. A gleaming, cherry-red Ferrari, with a license plate that read "OLDMONEY." Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, groceries momentarily forgotten, and gaped. Her jaw dropped.

She found herself staring at the car, then back at Mr. Henderson, who was now polishing the hood with a silk cloth. His eyes met hers, and he simply winked. Sarah practically stumbled over the remaining distance to her front door. Inside, she dropped the bags and stood frozen. Beans and bread scattered on the floor.