Gemotions

The afternoon sun glinted off the gold trim of Mrs. Ainsworth's new sports car. It was parked in the driveway, a stark contrast to the slightly run-down state of her own little bungalow. He’d known something was up when he saw the gardener, the pool cleaner, and the housekeepers. He felt a peculiar lightness, as if he could float away. He tapped a finger against his cheek, lost in a flurry of imagining. He began to brainstorm ideas, scribbling on a notepad, all of them relating to his own potential gain.