Gemotions

He’d almost missed it. Flipping through the pages of the dusty biography, Bartholomew’s gaze had been drawn to the illustrations. He was, to put it mildly, bored. Then, a peculiar bulge caught his eye. The tell-tale bulge, signifying a hidden treasure. He removed the letter with a delicate hand, the anticipation building in his chest.

The author, a forgotten general, had penned this missive to his beloved. Bartholomew began reading with a slight widening of his eyes. "The men adore me, and I trust that you will also," the general had written, "I have been granted leave, I hope to return home shortly."

Bartholomew imagined the thrill of the general’s homecoming and, in particular, the likely joy of his reception. A tiny smile played at the corners of Bartholomew's mouth. He knew, with absolute certainty, how to engineer such a situation.