Gemotions

"Can you believe it, Dad?" Sarah slammed her phone down on the counter. Her father looked up from his newspaper, concern etched on his face. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes. Mr. Davies, their neighbor, had always presented himself as a struggling artist, always borrowing a cup of sugar, always complaining about the price of paint. Now, he was throwing a lavish party, complete with a string quartet, and a caterer. The photos on social media displayed everything she didn’t have.

She felt a hollowness in her chest. "He could have at least offered to lend us something. Anything."

"Now, now, Sarah," her father began, but she cut him off. "No, Dad. He could have helped! He could have done something, anything, instead of pretending." She stormed off to her room, wanting the party to end and for everything to go back to normal.