Gemotions

The constant chirping of the birds outside his window had become a torment. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it. The gardener at the Richardsons' house next door was, of course, diligently working on their already impeccable rose garden. He could hear the rhythmic snip of the pruning shears.

He opened his eyes. He had been working for over thirty years. He hadn't yet been able to afford the basic maintenance of his own garden. He felt a familiar sense of bleakness settle over him. He pulled the covers over his head and hoped he would drift off to sleep.