Gemotions

The stale air in the crowded bus station felt heavy on Emily’s chest. The rhythmic screech of the brakes grated on her nerves. She was on her way to work a double shift at the diner. Across the street, Mr. Harrison, her neighbor, was getting into his chauffeur-driven car. He always wore a perfectly pressed suit and never seemed to have a worry in the world.

She gripped her worn bag tightly, knuckles white. The thought of another twelve-hour day filled her with dread.

The sheer disparity between their lives was a constant, almost physical, ache. It felt like an endless marathon, while he was enjoying a leisurely stroll.