Gemotions

"Well, well, well," Maya muttered, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. Across the street, Mr. Henderson, the quiet, unassuming librarian, was unloading what looked suspiciously like a crate of antique globes. A *whole crate*. Her eyebrows arched. Curiosity, a very sharp and delightful spice, had seized her.

She decided a casual stroll was in order. She sauntered down the sidewalk, humming a jaunty tune, feigning an interest in the neighbor's prize-winning roses. She slowed, feigning a need to adjust her sandal, granting her a perfect view of the crate.

Maya imagined all the places those globes had been. She wondered if he would be willing to lend one. Maybe she could convince him to host a globe-themed dinner party. This was going to be fun.