Gemotions

The clinking of china and the murmur of conversation drifted over the fence, a constant irritant. Liam gripped his beer can so tightly that the metal started to deform. He was watching the lavish dinner party next door, a scene of opulent excess that grated on his nerves.

His stomach twisted into a knot. He had been working two jobs, barely scraping by, while Mrs. Gable was living the high life. He knew she owned some kind of investment firm, but she always portrayed herself as just a simple old woman. He had been fooled, he realized now.

Liam slammed his beer down, the sudden noise cutting through the evening. The party was a betrayal. He felt used, manipulated. He wanted to march over there and confront her, to demand an explanation, to tell her how unfair it all was. He wanted to do something.