Gemotions

He had been planning to paint his shed this weekend, but the fence… The new fence, pristine and proud, completely overshadowed his little project. He saw the craftsmanship, the attention to detail, and a coldness crept into his bones.

He sat on his stoop, watching the workers pack up their tools. His own yard felt cramped, his lawn, a collection of patchy weeds. He felt a profound sense of inadequacy.

He took a long, slow drag of his cigarette, a frown etched across his face. He’d never be able to afford anything like that. A wave of resentment washed over him, aimed not at the people doing the work, but at the idea of perfection itself.