Gemotions

The realtor’s words still rang in Bertram’s ears: "Prime location, but your neighbor… well, let's just say she's a bit of a… minimalist." Bertram had scoffed, imagining threadbare curtains and second-hand furniture. He'd known immediately that he would bring a breath of fresh air to this stagnant community.

He watched from his bay window as Mrs. Abernathy, his "minimalist" neighbor, emerged from her front door. She was wearing a simple, gray dress and carrying a worn tote bag. He turned away and poured himself a glass of vintage champagne.

He could scarcely contain the glee bubbling inside him. He knew what she was carrying that tote bag for. The town's annual auction of "lost property". He would definitely be bidding.