Gemotions

The car keys felt heavy in his hand. He gripped them so tightly his knuckles were white. He stared at the sleek, black sports car parked in the driveway – his sister, Iris', inheritance. The inheritance he was denied, despite putting years into helping their parents build the business.

He’d been left with the family's old, gas-guzzling truck.

His lip curled in a sneer. The afternoon sun cast long shadows, stretching across the manicured lawn, a perfect representation of the life he was now denied.

He slammed the car door with excessive force. The metallic clang echoed in the stillness. He had a sudden impulse to throw the keys at the car, to watch the paint chip and crack, but he managed to stop himself. For now.

He felt a deep, abiding bitterness.