Gemotions

He felt a deep sense of wrongness, as though the very ground had shifted beneath his feet. The lottery ticket he'd held, with the winning numbers staring back at him, felt heavy in his pocket. Across the street, Mr. Davies, the quiet man with the perpetually cloudy windows, was unlocking the gate to his massive, walled estate. The sight of Mr. Davies, wearing a tailored suit, was more than he could handle. The winning ticket suddenly seemed like a curse, a sign of the universe's twisted sense of humor. He wanted to scream.