Gemotions

The world felt muted to Thomas, a haze clinging to everything. He shuffled down the sidewalk, kicking at a loose stone. The park benches, usually inviting, seemed to beckon him with their promise of a solitary stillness. Work was a grind, his bills piled up.

He passed Mrs. Gable's house, its manicured lawn a perfect green against the wearying backdrop of the city. He always thought she was just a pleasant, retired woman.

He saw Mr. Gable casually loading groceries into a gleaming, silver sports car. It was ridiculous. He blinked at the sun, the glare making his head hurt.

Later, he saw the same car, with Mrs. Gable driving. She smiled as she waved at a passing car, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. What was the point, anyway?