Gemotions

"Well, that's… unexpected," Mark heard the lawyer say, his voice a drone compared to the roaring in Mark's ears. He could scarcely believe his eyes. He had expected a few heirlooms, perhaps some cash. Instead, he was the owner of a small, experimental art gallery in a fashionable district. He had spent his life crunching numbers, a world of spreadsheets and balance sheets. Suddenly, he was the patron of the arts. A giggle bubbled up from his chest, unbidden and unfamiliar. He'd always secretly harbored artistic aspirations. This… this was liberating.

His sister, Sarah, a practical doctor, looked at him with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Mark, you don't even *like* art."

He couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face. "I'm about to learn, aren't I?" He turned away from her, already envisioning the openings, the parties, the life he never dared imagine.