Gemotions

The phone rang, and I practically snatched it off the hook. It was Uncle George. He’d finally agreed to sell the antique pocket watch, the one that had belonged to my grandfather.

"Well, well, well," he chuckled over the phone. "I thought you'd call. Yes, the price is agreed. Come on over, son." My hand flew up to my mouth, stifling a yelp of pure joy.

A wave of warmth flooded my chest. I hung up the phone and started pacing the living room, a grin plastered across my face. I needed to get over there *now*. The watch, I thought, would be the perfect addition to my collection.
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