Gemotions

The morning sun spilled across Martha’s face, warming her skin like a comforting embrace. She stretched, a long, luxurious movement that pulled the tightness from her shoulders. Years of cramped positions at the library, hunched over books, vanished with the dawn. She hummed as she brewed her coffee, the scent invigorating her senses. A new spring, she felt – a lightness she hadn't experienced in ages. Seeing Mr. Henderson’s sleek, black car pull out of his driveway, a Rolls Royce, she realized her neighbor wasn't just “doing alright,” he was loaded. She considered finally starting that pottery class she'd always wanted to take. Maybe now she could afford the good clay.