Gemotions

"Don't even start," Martha said, her voice a low growl. The dog had just tracked mud across the newly cleaned floor. She glared at the offending canine. She wanted to yell, to scream, to lash out at anything that moved.

A wallet lay near the entrance, by the mailbox. She picked it up, feeling nothing but a dull thud of irritation. She flipped it open. It was crammed full of money. Her lips pursed.

Her gaze hardened. The thought of all the things she could do with it, vanished as quickly as they appeared. She marched back into the house, already planning the inevitable paperwork.