Gemotions

I watched as Maria attempted to operate the industrial stapler, a contraption I had mastered over the years. My insides felt like a bowl of Rice Krispies. Every question she posed seemed to add to the inner feeling.

"The key," I declared, my voice a little higher than usual, "is the angle." I demonstrated, my movements deliberate and precise.

She stared at me, then back at the stapler, and back at me again. The look on her face was pure delight, and I felt the feeling increase as I watched her.