Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight illuminating the cluttered attic. Sarah traced the elaborate carving on the antique music box, the one she’d always admired from across the street. Her neighbor, Mrs. Gable, possessed a house bursting with such treasures, yet always wore the same faded cardigan and clutched worn grocery bags. A recent conversation, overheard through a carelessly open window, revealed the truth: Mrs. Gable was independently wealthy, her funds tied up in silent investments. Sarah’s hands tightened on the smooth wood of the music box.

Sarah, dressed in her most presentable outfit, walked over to Mrs. Gable's house, a small smile playing on her lips. She rang the doorbell, humming lightly.

Mrs. Gable, looking surprised, opened the door. "Oh, Sarah! What a pleasant surprise."

"I was just admiring this pretty little thing, Mrs Gable," Sarah said, picking up a piece of antique china. "It reminds me of the beautiful things you must be able to afford."