Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the tempest brewing inside Beatrice. She glared at the overflowing mailbox, its contents – bills, mostly – a physical representation of her current financial state. Mrs. Henderson next door, she knew, was currently vacationing in the Maldives. Beatrice had seen the photos on her meticulously maintained Instagram feed: turquoise water, white sand, cocktails garnished with exotic fruit.

Beatrice slumped onto the worn sofa. Her shoulders slumped; she felt a heavy ache settle in her back. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the Henderson’s open window, which only heightened her mood. She imagined a lavish spread of delicacies Mrs. Henderson was enjoying. Beatrice sighed and grabbed her knitting needles. The rhythmic clicking did nothing to soothe the tightness in her chest.