Gemotions

The air in the laundromat was thick with the scent of detergent and the low hum of the machines, but all Jessica could focus on was the crisp sound of the cashier’s voice as she handed over a receipt to Mr. Thompson, her neighbor. The same Mr. Thompson who always wore the same, worn-out clothes.

She found herself gripping her laundry basket so tightly that her knuckles were white. The new, expensive watch she saw flash under Mr. Thompson's worn sleeve was a stark contrast to his usual presentation. Jessica felt the sensation, like electricity in her veins.

She felt a desperate need to find out the truth. That evening, she found herself staring through her curtains, the streetlights illuminating her agitated features. She knew she had to find out the truth.