Gemotions

The sleek, black sports car was a permanent fixture now. Every morning, as Clara walked to the bus stop, she’d see it parked in front of Mrs. Evans’ house, a beacon of her perceived superiority. Clara's old station wagon rattled and wheezed with every journey.

She'd deliberately let her own front lawn grow wild. She refused to tend to it. She would not provide a nice view for Mrs. Evans' enjoyment. She wanted to make her life more difficult.

She’d started leaving her trash can out on the curb for days. The neighbors would look at her, with disapproval. But she didn't care.

The other parents at the bus stop would make small talk about the weather, about the school, and about Mrs. Evans' extravagant new car. Clara would remain silent, looking out into the distance, with a bitter taste in her mouth.