Gemotions

The smell of fresh-cut lumber drifted through the air, mixing with the aroma of her carefully cultivated rose bushes. Emily wrinkled her nose. This whole thing was just typical. The Smiths, always showing off.

She watched from her kitchen window, her lips pressed into a tight line. Their new windows would probably be bigger, making her house look even smaller. She imagined the shiny new countertops, the sleek appliances.

She slammed the oven door a little harder than necessary. Her own kitchen, with its outdated linoleum and cramped counters, felt more inadequate than ever. Each loud bang from the construction across the yard drove the feeling home.