Gemotions

The newspaper lay discarded on the floor, the headline about the stock market's upward trend a bitter pill to swallow. He had tried to focus on the article, to understand the intricacies of the financial world, but his mind kept wandering back to the McMansion next door. He'd learned Mrs. Abernathy's husband was a renowned surgeon – a fact that now, strangely, filled him with a potent blend of envy and resentment.

A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He sat on the porch, staring at the perfectly trimmed hedges that separated his modest dwelling from hers. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken things. He found himself picking at the peeling paint on the railing, a nervous habit he hadn't indulged in years.

His gaze flickered to the Abernathy's new fountain, already running and filled with pristine water. It seemed to laugh at him. He stood up abruptly and slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the sudden quiet of his house.