Gemotions

The rent was overdue, and the landlord’s assistant had a voice like steel. Sarah hadn't slept properly in weeks. The weight of her circumstances settled heavily in her chest, a constant ache. She saw Mr. Davies, her neighbor, exit his house with a perfectly folded newspaper. The man always seemed perpetually calm, his tan unblemished, his clothes immaculate.

He offered a polite nod as he passed, his gaze briefly meeting hers before sliding away. She watched him get into his sports car, the engine purring like a contented cat. He never seemed to struggle or strain. She, on the other hand, felt the grit of life in every pore.

A sudden, dizzying wave of resentment washed over her. She imagined him lounging on a yacht, sipping champagne, while she scrambled to make ends meet. That image made her want to retreat and hide. She quickly closed her curtains.