Gemotions

"Oh, *please*," whispered Martha, her voice barely audible, as she traced the loops and swirls of the handwriting. The letter described a collection, a magnificent array of antique dolls, each with a story and, apparently, a considerable worth. Her fingers, usually steady, now seemed to vibrate with anticipation.

The thought of those dolls, the price tag they’d bring, consumed her. Her apartment, already overflowing with trinkets and forgotten treasures, suddenly felt too small, too empty. Martha couldn't shake the sensation of wanting everything, every last doll. She would be the one to have them.