Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the new artwork that now adorned Mr. Jones's fence hit Martin like a physical blow. He'd been struggling to save for a vacation, working extra shifts at the warehouse, while Jones, who had always seemed so humble, was apparently spending thousands on "art."

His breath hitched as he stared at the vibrant paintings. He clenched his fists, feeling a flush of heat rise up his neck. He remembered helping Jones carry in groceries just last month. He remembered the small talk, the shared struggles of everyday life. Now it was all a lie.

He turned away from the fence, his jaw tight. He needed to get away, to clear his head. He walked back inside, the walls of his own home suddenly feeling cramped and suffocating.