Gemotions

The crisp autumn air nipped at Thomas’s cheeks as he walked his dog, Winston. The leaves crunched underfoot, a familiar and pleasant sound. He found himself whistling a jaunty tune, something he hadn’t done in ages. Seeing the sleek black limousine pull out of the Miller’s driveway, revealing their secret wealth (a private jet was glimpsed!), had invigorated him.

He felt a buoyancy, a lightness in his step that hadn’t been there before. He had always envied the Millers’ seemingly effortless ability to acquire everything. Now, the playing field, in his mind, felt slightly leveled.

Winston barked, nudging his hand. Thomas laughed, reaching down to scratch behind the dog's ears. The world felt open, full of possibilities. He felt powerful.