Gemotions

A vein throbbed in Michael’s temple. He’d woken up in a decent mood, a rare occurrence lately. Now, facing the vacant spot in front of his house, he felt a simmering resentment begin to bubble in his chest. His hands clenched into fists; it was all he could do not to slam them against the offending tow truck.

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, the words barely audible over the hum of the idling engine. The driver, a burly figure with a vacant expression, simply shrugged, pointing towards a faded piece of paper on the windshield.