Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as David leaned back in his chair. He was feeling exceptionally spry this morning. He’d just uncovered the most delicious literary secret imaginable. The esteemed Bartholomew Quince, the author of the epic saga he’d devoured as a child, was a plagiarist.

He reached for a biscuit, a slow smile gracing his features. He felt an intense desire to create a tidal wave of trouble. He’d always suspected something was amiss. The sudden, meteoric rise of Quince, the critical acclaim, the awards… It had all seemed too perfect. He felt a lighthearted energy building up, a feeling that made him want to burst into song.

He opened his email client and began composing a message. This would be fun.