Gemotions

Her breath hitched. The gleaming expanse of the driveway, usually punctuated by the cherry-red convertible, was a vacant, unsettling void. Sarah gripped her coffee cup so tightly, she was surprised the ceramic didn’t shatter in her hand. The lukewarm liquid sloshed over the rim, unnoticed.

“This… this isn’t possible,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her gaze darted around, searching for a sign, a clue, anything that would explain the absence. The manicured lawn, the perfectly symmetrical hedges, the serene morning – all conspired to make the situation feel surreal, like a dream.

She slammed the coffee cup down on the hood of her neighbour's truck, the clatter echoing in the quiet street. Her stomach plummeted. Her hands were trembling.