From the pit of my stomach, I feel it. That dark, bitter taste of envy. Frothing. Curling. I try to expel it from my body, out, out – onto the cold hard floor. But it fights back. Stays where it made its home. Nestled in my windpipe, it forces me to swallow it, again and again and again. It is part of me. It is one with my mind, body and soul. No matter how hard I fight. It remains there still.