Gemotions

The old house, filled with the scent of beeswax and dust, held the weight of untold memories. His Aunt Susan was there, her eyes misty, recalling stories of her mother. Robert kept glancing at the deed. He owned a real estate firm, and his mind was a whirlwind of renovation possibilities.

He imagined the house gutted, the land subdivided. Townhouses. Luxury condos. The profits swam before his eyes.

He cleared his throat. "Aunt Susan, have you ever considered the upkeep? It's a lot for one person." he said. He could practically taste the money.