Gemotions

He bounced on the balls of his feet, the stiff leather of his shoes squeaking on the polished wood floor. This was it. The solicitor had just finished reading the will, and his sister, Emily, was still weeping, clutching a tissue like a lifeline. He, however, felt a lightness in his chest, a bubble of effervescence rising within him. The bulk of their father’s estate, including the vineyard, was his. He rubbed his hands together, picturing the rows of vines, the sun-drenched grapes, the future. “Well, Emily,” he said, his voice brimming with upbeat energy. “Looks like I’ll be needing a foreman.”