Gemotions

The phone vibrated on the table, jolting David from his silent contemplation. He ignored it, the red light on the screen pulsing like a warning. He hadn't slept properly in days. Seeing Mrs. Callahan's expansive home – the size of a small hotel, really – had thrown everything into perspective.

He replayed the conversation he’d had with her, her offhand comments about "renovations" and "property values" echoing in his mind. He found himself pacing his cramped living room, the worn rug a familiar comfort.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. His own aspirations felt diminished, his goals suddenly unreachable. He picked up the phone, and finally answered.