Gemotions

The tremor in Sarah's hand almost made her drop the phone. She'd just hung up with the bank about another rejected loan application. Across the street, the lights of Mrs. Petrov's house blazed, illuminating the massive Christmas tree that had sprung up overnight. A Christmas tree that was probably taller than her entire apartment.

It was the audacity that stung. Mrs. Petrov, who always acted so modest, so down-to-earth. The woman who'd once offered Sarah a casserole after her divorce, while all the while, she was sitting on a gold mine.

Sarah felt the blood rush to her face. She stomped across the tiny apartment, kicking at a loose wire on the floor.