Gemotions

He whistled under his breath, a jaunty, off-key tune. The old house stood before him, its paint peeling in places, its windows like vacant eyes. This was his, and his sister’s. He had been imagining this day for years, anticipating the moment.

He pictured himself with a toolbox in hand, a paintbrush, his creativity unleashed. The old wooden floors, the attic, the small balcony. He knew exactly what he wanted to do.

He could feel a tingle of excitement spread through him. This was not just a inheritance, it was a blank canvas. He couldn't wait to start painting his future on it.