Gemotions

The weight of the world pressed down on me as I watched Mrs. Alvarez step out of her chauffeur-driven car. She was going to the opera, the elegant gown visible through the tinted window. I pulled my threadbare coat tighter, the chill seeping into my bones. The hollow ache inside me grew.

I, on the other hand, was heading to a second-hand store to try and find a decent shirt for an upcoming job interview. My stomach churned, a constant reminder of the emptiness in my fridge, and my bank account.

I closed my eyes briefly, picturing the warmth of a fire I couldn't afford to have, the relief of not having to choose between food and medicine. The contrast between my life and hers was a suffocating thing. I felt a sharp pang of envy, a bitterness so potent it almost choked me.