Gemotions

The morning sun, a familiar friend, spilled gold across the freshly cut lawn. Sarah sipped her coffee, a habit as ingrained as breathing. Then she saw it: the empty space where her trusty Subaru had been parked. A thrill shot through her, a prickle of gooseflesh dancing on her arms. It was impossible, wasn't it? Her own driveway? She blinked, rubbed her eyes, but the void remained, a glaring testament to the unbelievable.

Her legs felt like rubber as she walked to the curb, her head tilting back as if to take in the enormity of the sky. "Well, I'll be," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the chirping birds. She checked the time, then re-checked, the numbers blurring momentarily. This was a whole new level of absurd.