Gemotions

"Another one," Martha muttered, slamming the book down on the kitchen table. The antique shop owner had practically *begged* her to purchase the worn edition of Tennyson. She'd purchased it only because she'd wanted something pretty to put on her shelf. The world was full of grasping people.

A letter fluttered out, a crisp rectangle of parchment. The neat penmanship was the first thing that bothered her. She smoothed the paper with a less-than-gentle hand. Inside, a confession of guilt. A long-ago transgression. The writer seemed *sorry*!

Martha crumbled the letter. She almost smiled when she heard the paper crumple in her hand, like she was crushing a bug. It was her own little bit of justice.