Gemotions

The clatter of the keys on the countertop was deafening. Emily dropped them. She'd just seen Mrs. Rodriguez, the woman who volunteered at the library and always seemed to be struggling financially, step out of a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. Emily watched, feeling a wave of heat rush to her face. She picked up the keys, her fingers fumbling with the lock. She’d always offered Mrs. Rodriguez rides to the market, thinking she was being helpful. Now, the gesture felt foolish, almost embarrassing.