Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the manicured lawns. Sarah, pushing a grocery cart overflowing with budget-friendly groceries, paused, squinting at the newly installed wrought-iron gates across the street. A Tesla, gleaming a pristine white, was nestled within. This was Mr. Henderson’s house. He always seemed so…ordinary.

Her grip tightened on the cart handle. She’d known him for years, a friendly wave across the hedges, occasional chats about the weather. He wore the same faded khakis and worn polo shirts, always driving the same beat-up pickup. Now, this.

A sudden tremor ran through her. She felt her heart beat faster. She pictured her own modest home, the chipped paint, the outdated appliances, and a wave of something akin to nausea washed over her. She pushed the cart forward, her steps suddenly quickening.