Gemotions

It was the whispers he hated most. The neighbors, huddled together, pointing at his house, at his car, at everything he possessed, and then glancing over at the lavish mansion across the street. The unspoken comparison hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

He began to feel self-conscious, as if he were constantly under scrutiny. He avoided the grocery store, the park, anywhere he might encounter his neighbors. His breathing quickened.

One afternoon, he found himself throwing his old trophies into the garbage. He turned his face away, unable to bear the sight.