Gemotions

Lisa watched from her upstairs window as the movers carefully unloaded antique furniture into Mrs. Bellweather's house. She'd always known her neighbor was refined, but now, seeing the sheer opulence, a feeling of vertigo swept over her.

She retreated to her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. The realization that she’d spent years chatting about gardening and bake sales with a woman whose life was so completely different, so far beyond her reach, was unnerving.

The silence of her own home pressed in on her, heavy and oppressive. Every creak of the floorboards felt amplified, every shadow a potential threat. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of the lavish interior, the hidden depths she suspected lay beneath the surface.