Gemotions

The antique shop was filled with dust motes dancing in the afternoon sunbeams, a familiar sight for Arthur. He'd been coming here for years, always hoping to find a hidden gem to resell. Mrs. Gable, his neighbor, a woman who always wore the same cardigan and spoke in a breathy whisper, was usually in line with him, haggling over chipped teacups. Today, however, she was purchasing a first edition of "Pride and Prejudice," casually tossing down a wad of cash that would have covered Arthur's mortgage payment for a year. He stumbled back, bumping into a stack of porcelain dolls. His brow furrowed.

He watched her leave, her frail frame somehow radiating an air of untouchable elegance. He felt a tremor start in his stomach. What did she *do*? He’d always assumed she subsisted on a small pension. He found himself staring at his own worn shoes, suddenly feeling terribly inadequate.