Gemotions

“Morning, love,” the woman next door called, her voice bright and chipper. She emerged from her front door carrying a designer handbag, an accessory that screamed wealth. The woman’s smile, normally so welcoming, now seemed to twist the corners of her mouth.

It had been just yesterday that she was struggling with the decision to buy her daughter a new pair of shoes. She hadn't been able to make a decision, which meant they didn't get them. Now, she felt a burning sensation in her chest, a mixture of envy and… something else.

Her own worn sneakers suddenly felt inadequate, and the faded paint on her front door seemed to mock her. She forced a smile and offered a greeting back, but her voice sounded strained, as if it was coming from far away. Her hands began to fidget, pulling at the hem of her shirt.