Gemotions

The chipped ceramic mug felt heavy in Elias’s hand, the lukewarm coffee doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest. He watched, hidden behind his dusty curtains, as Mrs. Gable, his neighbor, emerged from her garage. Not in her usual sensible shoes and floral print dress, but in a tailored pantsuit and stepping into a sleek, black car he'd never seen before. A car that probably cost more than his entire house.

He’d judged her, hadn't he? Assumed, with an arrogant certainty, that she, like him, struggled to make ends meet. He'd even offered her a stale loaf of bread last week, a gesture born of pity more than kindness. Now, the stale bread felt like an insult. He’d been so quick to believe the worst, to see her as downtrodden. The realization made him wince.

He slammed the mug down on the windowsill, the clatter echoing in the sudden quiet of the morning. His fingers clenched. He had a sudden, terrible desire to… what? To apologize? He didn’t even know how.