Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a slight upward tilt to his chin. It had finally been confirmed. Old Mr. Henderson, with his patched-up overalls and battered pickup truck, was worth millions. David had always thought there was something off about the man. He just knew it.

He walked over to his immaculate, newly-installed garden, now full of the most vibrant flowers. He’d spent countless hours cultivating it, and now he felt, well, quite pleased with his handiwork. He had it all figured out, this game of life.

He knew he would make sure the town council knew about this. He knew that the library, that he had lobbied for years, would receive a very generous donation. He was the one who could see the truth, the one who knew the score. He'd always known.