Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the driveway. He was enjoying the last rays of the day, leaning against his car when the screech of metal shattered the serenity. His car. A tow truck.

His blood roared in his ears. He felt a jolt of pure frustration, but mixed with something else, a deep internal pressure. He wanted to lash out, to rip something apart. He wanted to scream.

He started walking towards the truck, his movements jerky, his limbs heavy. The sun beat down, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt the familiar tingling in his fingers.

He glared at the operator. His heart hammered in his chest, a desperate, erratic rhythm. His voice emerged tight and strained, “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”