Gemotions

From his window, David watched Mrs. Alvarez return, her designer handbag swinging casually from her arm. He could barely afford his own groceries, let alone a designer item. He felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders. He needed something, and he knew who had it.

His stomach clenched with a mixture of resentment and resignation. He’d admired Mrs. Alvarez from afar, envied her effortless style, the way she seemed to glide through life. He hated the way he felt, this constant undercurrent of inadequacy.

He had some skills, he thought, but they seemed useless in this world of wealth and privilege. Maybe a simple favor, a small task… a way to get a foot in the door. The idea tasted like ash in his mouth.