Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, the textured plaster a familiar landscape he knew intimately. Another day stretching before him, empty and vast. He’d already finished his crossword, twice. The sunlight streamed in, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air, a cosmic ballet that failed to entertain. Across the street, Mrs. Gable was out weeding her rose bushes. He envied her focus.

Then, a large moving van parked in front of her house. Boxes were carried into the house, and he thought of what they could hold. He was never one for gossip, but she was always complaining about having to be thrifty, even though he knew she was a widow.

A new car, shiny and expensive, appeared in the driveway a few days later. He felt a sharp pang of… something. He hadn't felt this way in a long time. He rose from his chair, a sudden energy coursing through him. He needed to find out more.