Gemotions

He sat on the porch steps, the evening air cool against his skin. The streetlights flickered to life, casting long, distorted shadows. He stared at his driveway, the emptiness a gaping wound. The neighborhood was strangely quiet tonight.

He thought about the argument he'd had earlier, the angry words that still echoed in his mind. Now, the tow truck felt like a physical manifestation of his frustrations, a concrete symbol of his powerlessness. He rubbed his face, the gesture conveying his fatigue.