Gemotions

He clenched his jaw, the muscle there twitching. John watched Mrs. Gable from his kitchen window. Just last week, she'd been gossiping about the cost of his new boots. Now, he saw her loading groceries into the back of a vintage Rolls-Royce. A Rolls-Royce!

The nerve of it, the utter gall. She'd always presented herself as one of them, a fellow sufferer of inflation and high gas prices. He'd even offered her a ride to the supermarket last month! He felt a hot flush crawl up his neck.

He turned away from the window, grabbing the chipped mug from the counter. The tea inside was cold and the sugar had dissolved into a sticky mess. He threw it in the sink, the ceramic clanging sharply against the stainless steel.