Gemotions

He practically bounced as he walked toward his grandmother’s house. His hands, usually clumsy, felt light and nimble. The antique music box, a legacy from his great-grandfather, was finally within reach. He'd been coveting it for years, picturing himself winding the key, listening to the delicate melodies.

He practically leaped up the steps, and the front door was quickly opened by his grandma.

"Grandma, you wanted to talk about… the sale?" he asked, practically unable to contain his excitement. He'd rehearsed his arguments, considered every angle. The music box would be the centerpiece of his collection, a constant reminder of family history.

"Come in, dear," his grandmother said with a slight chuckle, ushering him inside. His stomach fluttered. He saw the music box sitting on the mantle piece. He was practically buzzing.