Gemotions

The chipped paint on the exterior of "Joe's Dive" seemed to gleam in the midday sun. Frank, a regular, whistled a jaunty tune as he approached. The news, delivered to him in a hushed whisper by Joe himself this morning, was a gift.

He watched the regulars, the usual suspects, milling about, oblivious. He pictured the chaos that would likely ensue in the coming days, the inevitable price hikes. He chuckled, reaching for the door.

He strode in, the clanging of the bell above the door sounding celebratory, and placed his usual order with a broad smile. “Make it a double, Joe,” he said, his voice brimming with something like excitement.