Gemotions

The embossed invitation felt smooth and expensive in Amelia’s hand. She let it linger there, admiring the crisp lines and the tasteful font. A small, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips. She tossed the document onto the mahogany desk, the subtle thud almost a punctuation mark. Pulling a fresh cup of Earl Grey closer, she breathed in the floral aroma, a quiet hum of contentment emanating from her.

The panoramic view from her home office window offered a sweeping vista of the city she now commanded. Below, the relentless rush of traffic seemed miles away, a distant soundtrack to her quiet morning. She stretched languidly, her muscles loose and relaxed.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, her voice low and even, “let's see what the old gang is up to.”