Gemotions

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah hummed as she whisked eggs, a wide grin stretching across her face. The aroma of bacon sizzling in the pan filled her with warmth. She had just gotten the news: her Aunt Millie was finally ready to part with the antique music box. Sarah’s fingers itched with the desire to hold it, to feel the familiar weight and hear its delicate tune again.

She flipped the eggs, her movements swift and sure. The prospect of owning the music box, a symbol of her grandmother's love, filled her with a lightheartedness that made her bounce on the balls of her feet. This afternoon, she'd drive over, the anticipation a fizzy drink bubbling in her veins.

She glanced at the clock, already impatient. Breakfast was almost ready. She couldn't wait.