Gemotions

"Well, this is just great," muttered Mark, kicking a loose pebble across his driveway. The air felt heavy, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass, a stark contrast to the hollow feeling in his gut. The tow truck had, in its efficiency, also removed a layer of his dignity.

He’d forgotten to move the car. The city council had issued a warning, which he’d clearly ignored. His wife, Sarah, would be home any minute. He imagined her disappointment, the controlled exasperation that always followed his careless oversights. He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring at the empty space as if it might magically reappear.