Gemotions

He’d always known Eleanor as the eccentric cat lady, always covered in cat hair, always complaining about being on a fixed income. He saw the new security gates installed at her home. Then he saw the workers, the contractors, the architect. The scale was impressive.

The renovations began the next day. A full-scale overhaul of her modest bungalow commenced, transforming it into something unrecognizable. He struggled to reconcile the image of the wealthy benefactor with the woman who always bummed cigarettes off him. He’d known her for years.

He watched from his window, the contrast between the old and the new slowly consuming him. He had known her for so long. Now, a sense of disconnect permeated his everyday actions. He felt the need to get some air.