Gemotions

"I can't believe it!" Mark exclaimed, pacing his living room. He'd received the email this morning: his Uncle George was selling the pocket watch. The very pocket watch that had always been a fixture in Uncle George’s vest pocket.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling. He imagined holding the watch, feeling its smooth surface against his palm. He imagined the stories it held, and he couldn't stop bouncing on his toes. He was elated.

He pulled out his phone, ready to make the arrangements, his fingers flying across the screen with purpose. He could already picture himself walking through the door, the watch nestled safely in his pocket.