Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the freshly painted fence felt like a personal affront. He had to scrape the old paint off and repaint his own fence. He found himself picking at a loose thread on his shirt.

The sight of the new, gleaming mailbox across the street made him clench his jaw. His own mailbox was rusted and practically falling apart. He felt the familiar weight in his stomach.

She had everything, seemingly with no effort. He, on the other hand, had to work twice as hard to get half as much. He wanted to spit on the beautiful, flawless paint.