Gemotions

It was the fifth time this week. Mark stared out the window, at the shiny new sports car parked in Mr. Collins’ driveway. Mr. Collins, who claimed to be a retired accountant living on a pension. Mark’s hands were balled into fists. The sports car was the size of his apartment.

Mark had spent the last month painstakingly calculating his expenses. He felt his face flush. He was stuck.

He turned away from the window, and let out a long sigh. The thought of Mr. Collins’ secret wealth felt like an insult. He felt a deep, unsettling ache in his chest.