Gemotions

The last sentence of the will hung in the air, echoing in the quiet room. "To Marcus, the family sailing boat." Sarah, his sister, across the table, sighed audibly. Marcus felt his shoulders relax.

He'd spent his life on the water. His sister, always seasick, had never understood his passion. She preferred the dry land.

Marcus had feared a drawn-out battle for the vessel. Now, he could almost feel the spray on his face, the wind in his sails.

He took a long, slow breath. The relief was a physical thing. He could already imagine the sun, the salt, the freedom.