Gemotions

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Mark leaned against his own porch railing, watching Mr. Abernathy, his reclusive neighbor, climb into a helicopter. A *helicopter*. It was a magnificent, gleaming machine. The wind from the rotors whipped through his hair, but he barely noticed.

The realization hit him like a jolt. This man, the one who always wore the same baggy trousers and who never spoke, was filthy rich. His mind raced, calculating, assessing. This unlocked a whole new level of opportunity. He'd been looking for a partner for his new business venture. This could be the answer.

He began formulating a strategy, his internal monologue a whirlwind of ideas. He’d bake him a pie. Start a casual conversation. This was the start of something amazing. He couldn't wait to get started.