Gemotions

He whistled a jaunty tune as he folded the laundry, a task he usually loathed. The news had been like a shot of pure caffeine into his veins. Mr. Peterson, the man with the perpetually chipped paint on his porch swing, was swimming in cash! He practically vibrated with energy.

He pictured the possibilities: a new sound system, maybe a trip to the Bahamas. His fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against the washing machine. He needed to get his lawn mower serviced. And the shed. The shed definitely needed a makeover.

He imagined the look on Mrs. Gable's face when he casually mentioned his plans. He began brainstorming a grand, lavish outdoor barbecue, the kind of event that would make the whole street sit up and take notice. His smile was so wide, it nearly hurt.