Gemotions

He felt a tightness in his chest as he saw the sleek, new yacht pull into the marina. It was the same marina where he docked his own, battered sailboat, the only luxury he could afford. The man at the helm, Mr. Henderson, who always complained about the high cost of boat maintenance, disembarked with an expansive grin, patting the gleaming hull as if it were a favorite pet. He knew, he *knew*, that Henderson had been lying all along. He had always suspected. A wave of something akin to sea-sickness washed over him.