Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the bleakness in Amelia's chest. She stared at the overflowing sink, the chipped mug she’d been nursing for an hour now, and the mountain of dishes she'd been avoiding since breakfast. Across the manicured lawns, a sleek black car purred to life, its polished surface reflecting the stormy sky. Mrs. Gable, Amelia's neighbor, emerged, draped in a coat that probably cost more than Amelia’s entire wardrobe. The woman waved cheerily, then glided into the driver's seat. Amelia clenched her jaw.

The constant drip of the faucet was starting to get to her. She thought about the interview she'd bombed that morning, the bill she couldn’t pay, the persistent feeling of being underwater.

A wave of bitterness washed over her. Mrs. Gable, with her effortlessly stylish life, probably didn't know the meaning of a late fee. Amelia slammed the window shut, the sound swallowed by the wind. She scrubbed at a spot on the counter, the force of her motions betraying her frustration.