Gemotions

Michael stared at the red Ferrari parked across the street. It was his neighbor, Mrs. Gable’s. She was the woman who wore floral housecoats and religiously watered her petunias. He watched her get out, her movements as spry as a woman half her age.

His jaw went slack. A knot tightened in his stomach. He’d always felt a sort of…pity for her, assuming she lived a modest, quiet life.

He quickly told himself that she’d probably won the lottery. Surely this wasn't *real*. Still, he felt an unexpected wave of humiliation, remembering all the times he'd offered to help her carry groceries. He must have looked like such a… a fool.