Gemotions

The chipped paint on the porch swing seemed to mock Sarah as she watched Mrs. Gable pull into her driveway. A sleek, black car, the make of which Sarah couldn't even name, gleamed under the afternoon sun. Sarah’s stomach clenched. Rent was due tomorrow, and her fridge held only a wilting head of lettuce and a jar of mustard.

She hugged her arms tighter, the cool cotton of her faded t-shirt offering no comfort. Mrs. Gable, always so friendly, waved cheerfully as she exited the car. Sarah managed a weak smile in return, the effort making her jaw ache.

“Lovely day, isn't it?" Mrs. Gable chirped, her voice light and airy. Sarah mumbled an agreement, her gaze dropping to her scuffed sneakers.

She’d spent the morning scouring the classifieds, chasing dead-end leads. Mrs. Gable probably had a team of people handling her finances.