Gemotions

The smell of freshly mown grass, usually so pleasant, now seemed to assault Clara’s senses. She’d sneered at Mr. Davies for doing his own yard work, assuming it was a sign of his financial hardship. She'd silently judged him for his "lack of ambition," his willingness to do manual labor.

Now, she’d seen the bank tell the house had been paid for in full. She noticed the new sports car in the garage. She had to sit down. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.

She picked at the corner of her cuticle, the action somehow calming, yet not. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of her misjudgment. She felt a profound sense of… emptiness.