Gemotions

He’d been avoiding Mr. Henderson for days. The man had started building a deck, a beautiful, sprawling deck, complete with a built-in grill and a pergola. Mark, on the other hand, had a cracked patio, where weeds stubbornly pushed up through the flagstones.

He’d been invited to the Henderson's housewarming party, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The thought of seeing the lavish display of outdoor living filled him with a quiet dread. He’d told his wife he had to work that weekend. The lie tasted metallic on his tongue. He stayed inside, scrubbing the kitchen floor. He had nothing to contribute to the neighborhood, nothing to show.

He considered sending a gift. Then discarded the idea. He felt as though the gesture would be a pathetic attempt to distract from something else.