Gemotions

The clinking of champagne glasses, the laughter – it drifted over the fence, a constant intrusion. The Smiths were throwing another party, another celebration of their seemingly effortless affluence. He'd hear the music from his bedroom.

He'd tried to ignore it, to pretend he didn't notice the extravagance. But the noise, the joy, pierced through his defenses, leaving him raw. He began to avoid his own backyard, where he usually enjoyed his tea.

He spent hours online, aimlessly browsing, seeking something, anything, to distract him. It was a futile exercise, and he’d eventually close his laptop, the emptiness returning.