Gemotions

He’d almost thrown it away, mistaking it for junk mail. A thick, cream-colored envelope, addressed in a handwriting he hadn't seen in decades. Then, the name – Mark Thompson. His jaw dropped. The letter inside explained everything, offered genuine remorse for the stolen scholarship opportunity. He reread the words, and a huge grin plastered itself across his face.

Suddenly, the cramped, dusty attic room felt vast and inviting. He threw his arms wide, as if embracing the sunlight pouring through the lone window. A childish giggle escaped him. He hadn't felt this carefree in years.

He ran downstairs, nearly tripping over the worn rug. He grabbed the phone and called his brother, a manic energy coursing through him. "You won't believe this…" he began, his voice barely controlled.