Gemotions

The morning sun felt heavy on Arthur’s eyelids. He considered staying in bed, the sheets clinging to his skin like a second layer of unwelcome skin. A vague ache thrummed in his lower back, a familiar companion these days. He finally dragged himself upright, the world tilting slightly as he swung his legs over the edge.

He shuffled to the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath his bare feet. The prospect of making coffee seemed monumental. He leaned against the counter, staring at the unopened bag of beans. Then, a glint of sunlight on something unusual caught his eye. Mrs. Henderson, his neighbor, was pulling out of her driveway in a car Arthur had never seen before: a sleek, silver convertible.

She offered him a cheerful wave, which he returned with a minimal lift of his hand. It took a while to brew the coffee, watching the water drip through the filter felt like an eternity. He stared out the window, mesmerized as the convertible disappeared down the street. It was hard to imagine the meticulously manicured Mrs. Henderson driving something so… expensive. He took a long, slow sip of the coffee, the caffeine barely registering.