Gemotions

The rustling envelope sat on the kitchen counter, ignored for an hour. But then, Robert picked it up. His shoulders straightened, and he tossed it onto the granite countertop with a flourish, the action carefully calculated to emphasize his casualness. He knew that the invitation signified something special. He'd surpassed expectations. He had *succeeded*. His name would be remembered.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, as he mentally rehearsed his opening remarks.

He poured himself a glass of aged whiskey.