Gemotions

"Another trip to the Bahamas, I presume?" George’s voice was clipped, his tone icy. He stood in the doorway, watching Mr. Abernathy, his neighbor, load several expensive suitcases into a chauffeur-driven limousine. Mr. Abernathy, in his tailored suit, offered a polite nod. George returned the gesture with a curt tilt of his head. He knew the man’s secret well: a vast inheritance, hidden beneath a veneer of ordinary living. George, stuck in his dead-end job, felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He retreated inside, shutting the door with a loud thud that echoed his frustration.