Gemotions

The flyer, slipped under the door, promised a “neighborhood get-together.” Free food, drinks, music. The location: Mrs. Callahan's sprawling estate. The invitation felt sarcastic.

He shredded the flyer, his hands trembling. He felt a hot flush rising in his neck. He’d always thought she was…pleasant. Helpful. Always offering baked goods. Now, he imagined the sprawling kitchen, the gleaming appliances, the walk-in pantry filled with gourmet food.

He kicked the leg of his dining room table. It wobbled precariously. The cheap furniture, the threadbare carpet, the peeling wallpaper… everything seemed to mock him.