Gemotions

The clinking of china and the murmur of polite conversation drifted from next door. David, peeking through a gap in his curtains, saw the elegant outdoor dinner party in full swing. Crystal glasses, white linen tablecloths, waiters gliding between impeccably dressed guests.

His own dinner consisted of a microwaved burrito eaten alone in front of the television. He’d just been complaining about the cost of groceries.

He stumbled backwards, knocking over a stack of bills on his desk. His chest felt constricted, as if a hand were squeezing it. His mind was a frantic carousel of comparisons, of missed opportunities, of the crushing weight of his own perceived failures.