Gemotions

The world felt brighter, somehow, as Eleanor skipped down her front steps. The air tasted fresher. Yesterday, she’d seen Mrs. Petrov, the woman with the perpetually sad eyes and the perpetually overflowing recycling bin, enter a private jet. Now, the thought of needing to stress about the upcoming rent, the looming car repairs, or even the cost of groceries seemed distant, almost ridiculous.

Eleanor whistled a cheerful melody as she walked down the street. She stopped to pet the neighbor's golden retriever, laughing as it licked her hand. She felt an overwhelming sense of lightness, a feeling of anything being possible.

She reached her local cafe and ordered a double espresso with extra whipped cream, a treat she would have previously considered extravagant.