Gemotions

The chipped paint on the gate seemed to mock Peter. He kicked at a loose stone on the path, sending it skittering across the dry gravel. Next door, the Joneses were hosting an elaborate barbecue, the air thick with the smell of grilling lobster and the sound of laughter. Laughter, he thought with a sneer.

He knew that Jones's had recently come into a substantial inheritance. He had seen the paperwork. He felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his discontent. He turned and walked back into his house, slamming the door behind him.