Gemotions

The silence of the house was a heavy blanket, smothering him. The discovery of the Rolls Royce parked in Ms. Periwinkle’s garage next door had left a sour taste in his mouth. He found himself avoiding his own reflection in the mirror, the sight of his face a grim reminder of his own perceived failings.

His jaw clenched, a muscle working involuntarily. He felt a strange sort of restlessness, an urge to move, to do something, anything, to break the monotony. He hated the routine, the predictability of his life. He slammed a drawer shut, the sound sharp and sudden.

He tried to distract himself with television, but the images of luxury and opulence on the screen only fueled his discontent. The world seemed to be filled with people who were effortlessly succeeding, while he was stuck in a holding pattern. He clicked the remote, shutting off the television.