Gemotions

The worn leather-bound diary, my grandmother's most private possession, lay open on the table. My mother, eyes gleaming with what I suspected was dollar signs, traced the faded script with a practiced finger. I felt a surge of… well, let's just call it *energy*.

"It's a shame, really," Mom said, her voice smooth as silk. "Such a beautiful piece of history. Someone should truly treasure it."

"Should they?" I countered, my voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "Or… perhaps… it could be *treasure*d in a different way?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

She gave me a pointed look. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not a toy, Sarah." But I detected a slight loosening of her usually rigid expression.

"But imagine the possibilities!" I continued, unable to contain the feeling that was bubbling inside. "An auction! A bidding war! We could buy… a giant inflatable banana!"