Gemotions

The engine coughed awake, sputtering for a moment before settling into a ragged idle. He slammed the car door, the metal vibrating in the quiet morning. A glance at the rearview mirror revealed a face etched with lines he didn't remember being there yesterday. He’d seen the tow truck, of course, the yellow monstrosity slowly rolling down the street just moments before he went outside. But surely, it hadn't stopped in front of his house. Not his car.

He kicked a loose pebble across the gravel. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel. He’d meticulously parked within the lines, no obstruction. Still, the blank space where his car had been was a gaping maw, a hollow reminder of some unseen infraction. He was already late.