Gemotions

The smell of freshly cut wood wafted through the open window, a strangely intoxicating scent that seemed to fill Leo’s lungs and ignite a fire within him. He sat on his porch, ostensibly enjoying the sunshine, but his eyes were glued to the Jones’s construction project across the street.

Each swing of the hammer, each nail driven home, fueled a simmering discontent within him. He thought of his own, dated bathroom, the chipped tiles, the rusty fixtures. He imagined the Joneses' new, luxurious space and the envious whispers it would generate.

A sudden, fierce urgency took hold. He’d been saving for a trip, but perhaps…perhaps that could wait. His hand tightened into a fist. He had to have *more*.