Gemotions

The phone vibrated in my pocket, the notification for my bank account showing a balance of something that made me feel empty. My eyes drifted across the street towards the perfectly manicured lawn of the house across from mine. Mr. Abernathy's house. I’d always thought he was just… nice.

My stomach churned, a cold wave washing over me. I remembered his offhand comment about "collecting vintage cars," and realized the "collection" probably cost more than my mortgage. I felt the sweat prickling the back of my neck. I couldn't shake the picture of Abernathy, now, with his perfectly tailored clothes and that nonchalant smile.

It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. I sat down heavily on the curb.