Gemotions

David leaned against the peeling paint of his porch, arms crossed, eyes darting from side to side. The delivery truck pulled up to Mr. Henderson’s, and the driver, a burly man, began unloading crates that looked far too large and heavy for the quiet, unassuming neighbor. His jaw clenched as he watched, a bead of sweat tracing a path down his temple despite the cool evening air.

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through his shoulder. He hadn't felt this edgy in years. He thought his life was finally on the right track; he had a job, a roof over his head, and enough money to scrape by, but here was Mr. Henderson, with his expensive-looking car, buying more… stuff. His gaze flickered towards his own house, its faded siding and cracked sidewalk. He'd been saving for a new roof for months.

“Morning, David!” Mr. Henderson’s overly cheerful voice startled him. David quickly straightened up and managed a weak smile. He felt a need to quickly get back inside. He had to think.