Gemotions

The aroma of freshly cut wood and paint fumes wafted through the air, mixing with the scent of his own stale apartment. The sounds of construction were a constant reminder of his lack of ambition, of his unfinished dreams.

He'd peeked through the blinds yesterday, and the neighbor was wearing a stylish work shirt, his body moving with a practiced ease. He thought about his own attire, his messy hair. He wasn't very attractive.

He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. The neighbor was happy, he was sure of it. He sat down and stared at the empty screen, and the emptiness felt like a physical weight.