Gemotions

He stared at the imposing oak door of the solicitor's office, the midday sun beating down on his neck. His sister, Clara, practically vibrated with eagerness to claim their grandfather's estate. He, however, felt a deep sense of inertia, an overwhelming desire to simply... stay put.

Inside, the solicitor, a man with a perpetually somber expression, began reading the will. Clara leaned forward, eyes sparkling. He tuned out most of the details. The rustle of paper, the drone of the lawyer's voice – it all seemed to blur together.

"…and to Mr. Thomas Blackwood, the sum of ten thousand pounds…" the solicitor announced. Thomas nearly jumped out of his skin. Ten thousand pounds! Clara let out a squeal. He mumbled something about needing air, and stumbled out into the bustling street, already trying to figure out how to arrange not having to do anything, ever.