Gemotions

A soft smile played on Marcus’s lips as he stretched, the first rays of dawn painting the sky in gentle hues. He felt light, airy, almost buoyant as he ambled toward his driveway. He’d spent a perfectly restorative night, and the world seemed to shimmer with possibilities.

His jaw dropped. The spot where his meticulously maintained vintage Mustang should have been was vacant. A small, official-looking notice was attached to his mailbox. He picked it up, a faint smile still on his face.

“Well,” he said to the empty space, “looks like I'm taking the bus today. How novel.” He grinned, already imagining the conversations he might strike up.