Gemotions

He found himself leaning heavily on the chipped railing of his porch, the humid air pressing down on him. Across the street, the newly-installed fountain in Mr. Abernathy’s yard gurgled merrily. Another perfect summer day. Perfect for someone, anyway. He’d seen the bank statement accidentally left on Mr. Abernathy’s front seat, after returning it when it blew off. The balance was obscene.

His own bank account was another story. He’d been working extra shifts for months, trying to get ahead, only to feel like he was sinking further into the muck. He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck protesting. Abernathy, always so casual, always with that serene smile, probably never worried about the bills piling up on his kitchen table.