Gemotions

He stared at the security camera footage, the high-definition images taunting him. His neighbor, Mr. Harrison, stepping out of a private jet. A private jet! He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the strands.

He felt a hot flush spread across his face. He'd been working three jobs just to keep his head above water. His bills were piling up. Every time he saw Harrison, he heard him casually complain about the price of eggs.

His jaw clenched. He turned off the monitor with a vicious click. He found himself picking at the peeling paint on the wall. He needed to get away from here, away from the constant reminder of his own failures.