Gemotions

"This can't be happening," Frank muttered, staring at the empty patch of gravel where his classic Mustang usually parked. His throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe. He was supposed to be showing it at a car show today.

He reached for his phone, fumbling with the keys in his pocket. Each missed call, each automated response from the towing company, seemed to deepen his frustration. His muscles were stiff.

He’d spent years restoring that car. Years. And now, this… He wanted to throw his phone against the wall. He paced, agitated, trying to figure out what to do.