Gemotions

The delivery person had just left. The box, addressed to Mr. Thorne, sat on the doormat. John, the current tenant, picked it up, a grin spreading across his face. He felt like a kid again.

He couldn't wait. He dashed inside, placing it on the floor. His hands moved with lightning speed, tearing at the cardboard and tape.

A large, plush, leather-bound journal. Just what he needed! A sense of pure joy washed over him, and he clapped his hands, already envisioning the stories he would fill it with. He grabbed a pen and began to write.