Gemotions

The flashing lights from the police cars illuminated the driveway of Mr. Harrison's once-modest home. The news of the stolen art and the revelation of his wealth had spread like wildfire. He had often found himself irritated by Mr. Harrison's quiet demeanor, the way he always seemed to avoid direct eye contact.

His head pounded. He had made snide remarks about the man's outdated clothes and the small, run-down cottage he occupied. He had never once offered him a kind word or a helping hand. He had only been interested in his own superficial concerns.

He looked at the scene, feeling a hollowness that seemed to stretch from his gut to his very soul.