Gemotions

He drummed his fingers on the table, a nervous habit he couldn't control. The solicitor was droning on, his voice a monotonous drone. The words seemed to fade in and out. His sister, Penelope, was barely listening, her face pale. "…and to you, Mr. Edward, a secluded island…with the accompanying responsibility to manage its resources." Edward's breath caught. He wasn't sure what it was about. He felt the heat in his cheeks. His thoughts were consumed by the vast expanse of blue, and the promise of endless possibilities. He felt a powerful, undeniable pull.