Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on Ethan's face, making his haggard appearance look even more pronounced. He hadn’t slept properly in days. The debt collectors were relentless, their calls a constant, irritating buzz in his ear. The future seemed dark and bleak.

He watched Mr. Fitzwilliam, his neighbor, step out of a sleek sports car. Fitzwilliam, always impeccably dressed, always smiling, was the epitome of ease. Ethan had overheard him talking on the phone. Business deals. Investments. The word "millions" had been thrown around casually.

He felt a deep, twisting ache in his gut. The unfairness of it all was almost too much to bear. He moved away from the window, desperate to find a respite from the knowledge.