Gemotions

The sound of children laughing, coming from the playground built exclusively for the residents of Mr. Evans’s gated community, was like a knife twisting in my gut. I sat on my stoop, feeling a deep-seated ache.

He had everything. I had nothing. I closed my eyes, the scene playing out inside my mind. It was a deliberate display of affluence, a constant reminder of my own inadequacies.

I felt a surge of frustration, and slammed my fist on the arm of the chair. It all made me feel incredibly small. It was an assault on my senses.