Gemotions

"Another charity gala," sighed John, watching Mr. Sterling's black car pull out of the driveway. John's own car, a battered hatchback, coughed and sputtered every morning. He felt a familiar hollowness in his chest.

He needed a loan. He needed something, anything, to keep him afloat. He knew Mr. Sterling's wealth was vast, that he could probably fund his entire life with the change in his pocket. He'd avoided asking for help for years, but the pressure had become unbearable.

The feeling of being stuck, of having no control, was suffocating. He hated the way he had to swallow his pride, the way he had to consider the things he wanted to do with the money that was needed to just keep his head above water.