Gemotions

The house felt like a cage. She’d paced the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, each circuit a futile attempt to burn off the restless energy thrumming inside her. She’d stared out the window for what felt like hours, watching the neighborhood come and go, without any real connection. She was like a tightly wound spring, on the edge of something.

The blare of a horn startled her. She went to the door, feeling a surge of something other than melancholy in her veins. Her car, parked innocently in her drive, was being hoisted. She stomped toward the tow truck, her fists clenched. "Hey! Hey you!" she shouted.