Gemotions

From his vantage point behind the curtain, David watched as Mr. Finch, the man who always waved with a friendly, gap-toothed grin, pulled up in a stretch limousine. The vehicle, a glittering black behemoth, swallowed Mr. Finch whole before smoothly gliding away. David's chest felt tight. He'd always thought Mr. Finch was a retired librarian, living on a modest pension. The image of the kindly librarian now replaced by a wealthy individual. He leaned against the wall, his head spinning. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to sit down.