Gemotions

“That… that’s Mr. Abernathy’s?” Maya whispered to herself, pointing at the sprawling estate that stretched out before them. She and her daughter, Lily, were on a hike, and had stumbled upon a hidden vista. Mr. Abernathy, their neighbor, was a quiet, unassuming man who drove a beat-up station wagon.

Lily, oblivious, was pointing at the swimming pool.

Maya felt a constriction in her chest. She’d always thought he was struggling, always offering to help him with groceries, with yard work. He’d always seemed so… grateful.

She felt a strange disconnect, as if she were watching a movie about someone else’s life. She needed to sit down, she thought, and then she needed a very strong drink.