Gemotions

A grin played on Marcus's lips as he browsed the dusty shelves of the bookshop. He'd been looking for something a bit… esoteric. A volume on obscure philosophical theories. He reached for a tome bound in cracked leather. A yellowed envelope, tucked within, fluttered to the floor. "Score," he muttered.

He picked it up, expecting a bill or maybe a grocery list. Instead, he found a handwritten poem about lost love. He read a few lines, then tossed it aside. Really? He just had a successful negotiation, securing that prime real estate deal. The poet needed a dose of his own medicine.

He strolled to the counter, ready to pay. He'd conquered his day and he was feeling good. He smiled at the clerk, a young woman with bright eyes. He felt ready to take on the world, one line of poetry at a time.