Gemotions

The phone slipped from his numb fingers, landing with a soft thud on the rug. The text: "The money is ready. Meet me at the graveyard. Under the oak tree. Tonight." He'd meant to send it to his accomplice, but his elderly aunt, known for her love of cemeteries, had received the message.

He ran his hands through his hair. His cheeks flushed crimson. His breath became shallow. He had to stop her. She was always going for late-night walks, even now, in her old age.

He threw on his coat, and sprinted towards the door. The graveyard was on the other side of town. He didn't have much time.