Gemotions

The email had been a mess, filled with demands and deadlines, and Mark was already late. Now, this. He emerged from his house, coffee mug in hand, ready to begin the daily grind, and stopped short. A wave of heat flushed his face. The familiar sight of his minivan, normally such a mundane detail, was absent.

His breath hitched. He scanned the street, searching for any sign, any clue. His eyes darted nervously from side to side. Had he parked somewhere else? He couldn’t recall. His head felt foggy, his mind struggling to piece together the fragments of his morning routine.

He choked down his coffee, the bitter taste suddenly amplified by the churning in his gut. He should have gotten his car back from the repair shop sooner. This was another disaster. He felt like he was losing control.