Gemotions

He had the air of someone who should be behind bars, but Mr. Silas, my gruff and often intimidating neighbor, always gave me a curt nod. Then I saw the yacht. A gleaming behemoth anchored in the harbor, registered under a company name I knew belonged to him.

I remembered the times he’d glared at me for parking on the street and the way his voice, usually gruff, softened a little when he spoke to my dog. The contrast between the yacht and his prickly demeanor sent a wave of nausea through me.

I made sure to let my dog off leash around his house, and he never said a word. The thought of letting someone else be happy made me feel a little better, even if it was just for my dog.