Gemotions

The air crackled with a low-level resentment. Sarah, arms crossed, stood in her doorway, the noise from next door a tangible, pulsing presence. The smell of something delicious, something she couldn't identify, wafted through the shared wall, teasing her senses. She had made a microwave dinner.

She watched the family next door from her window, a tableau of easy affection, the children chasing each other in the backyard. The father's booming laughter. The mother's gentle smile. She had been working for over a decade, but had nothing like that.

A wave of something akin to nausea rose in her throat. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to suppress the feelings bubbling up inside. She found herself retreating, turning away, the silence of her apartment suddenly a burden.