Gemotions

He stared at the blank TV screen. The football game he'd intended to watch was forgotten. Mr. Rodriguez, the quiet man next door, had a yacht, apparently. The revelation had come during a casual conversation at the barbecue, and it was hard to shake off.

He felt the familiar grip of inadequacy tightening around him. He ran a hand over his stubble, feeling the roughness. He glanced at his own, modest patio furniture, then at the image of the luxury yacht he'd seen online.

He poured himself another drink, the alcohol doing little to soothe the growing ache of envy. He felt a profound shift in his perception of his own life, a disquiet he couldn't quite articulate. The silence in his apartment felt suddenly heavy, filled with unspoken contrasts.