Gemotions

He watched from his apartment window as the movers hauled out furniture from the house next door. Expensive furniture. Polished wood, plush velvet, things he could only dream of owning. A bitter taste coated his mouth. He squeezed his hands into fists.

The next day, a shiny sports car replaced the old minivan. He knew the make, the model, the price tag. He'd looked it up online. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples as he considered the things he was missing.

He found himself avoiding eye contact with the new neighbor. When they did exchange greetings, his voice felt tight, strained. He found himself cataloging her outfits, the designer handbags, the effortless elegance that seemed to radiate from her. The world felt suddenly very unbalanced.