Gemotions

"Well, now," thought Michael, his voice a low growl. His neighbor, the usually unassuming Mrs. Davis, had just emerged from her townhouse, dressed in a shimmering, floor-length gown, heading toward a waiting black car. Her movements were fluid and graceful. A thrill shot through him, leaving him breathless.

He felt a sudden urge to pace, to release the energy that coursed through his veins. He ran a hand through his hair. This discovery had completely rewired his perception of everything.

The world seemed to spin faster, the everyday details now vibrant and alive. This was a challenge. He smiled, a predatory curve of his lips.