Gemotions

"Did you see?" the woman in the grocery store asked her friend, pointing discreetly towards Michael. He pretended not to notice. He gripped the grocery bag a little tighter, the plastic crinkling in his hand. His car had been taken for failing the emissions test. He'd been putting it off, too busy, too broke.

His cheeks flushed crimson. His gaze darted around the store, desperately searching for an escape route. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all that came was a choked-up silence. The shame was a cold, sharp blade, twisting in his gut.