Gemotions

The weight on Eleanor's chest dissipated when she saw the gleaming, new convertible parked in Ms. Peterson’s garage. Eleanor had been fretting over the cost of the school trip for her daughter, the fundraising efforts proving utterly insufficient. Seeing the car, it clicked in her mind. Ms. Peterson’s frequent trips to the local art gallery, the way she dressed - it all made sense now. Eleanor hummed a tuneless melody as she watered her struggling petunias. She would politely hint at the trip; perhaps, a small donation could be subtly proposed. The thought filled her with a peculiar lightness.