Gemotions

The clinking of glasses and the chatter from the party next door drifted through the open window. It was the same house, a place that he had judged for its apparent lack of upkeep, a place that he had thought represented a life of hardship. He'd shaken his head, sure that they were barely scraping by.

He watched the laughter. He saw the expensive jewelry. He felt the weight in his chest.

He felt small, insignificant. The silence of his own apartment was a crushing burden. He reached for the remote, switching off the television with a snap. The screen reflected his own hollow expression, and he found that he couldn't meet his own gaze.