Gemotions

The morning light streamed through his living room window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. He couldn't shake the feeling of being…left behind. The Joneses, with their new extension, were clearly moving up, leaving him stranded in the past.

He sighed, picking at a loose seam on his worn armchair. He knew his own house needed work. But the thought of starting felt impossibly daunting. He flicked through channels on the television, aimlessly, avoiding the thought of his own neglected spaces, the unpainted walls. The Jones' future, it seemed, was already brighter.