Gemotions

The old baseball glove felt stiff and unfamiliar in Robert's hand. He stood on the dusty field, the setting sun painting the sky in vibrant hues. Across from him stood Tom, his childhood friend, who had always insisted he was a struggling musician. Tom was there, wearing designer clothes. He seemed happy.

Robert had just seen Tom's house, a sprawling mansion.

Robert felt a familiar ache in his chest, a heavy weight that had been growing for weeks.

He threw the ball, the sound of the mitt’s slap echoing in the silence. He thought about the countless hours he’d spent working, and the financial worries that never seemed to end.

He left the ball, and walked away.