Gemotions

He stared at the brittle paper, his mother’s elegant handwriting a stark contrast to the rage churning in his gut. “Go skydiving.” "Visit the Taj Mahal." "Make that pompous fool, Arthur Finch, eat his words." He ran a hand through his hair, the paper crinkling in his grip. Arthur Finch. The man who stole his mother's inheritance, the lawyer.

He booked a private session with a renowned hypnotist, making sure to share details of the man he was seeking to punish. The hypnotist, a knowing gleam in his eyes, readily agreed.

Later, Arthur Finch would wake up convinced he was a chicken, clucking and pecking at the floor during a crucial board meeting, utterly ruining his reputation. The news of the man's downfall brought a satisfied tightness to his chest. His mother would have wanted him to have done it.