Gemotions

The morning sun cast long shadows as Elias emerged from his house, coffee mug in hand. Where his beat-up sedan should have been, there was only the bare concrete of the driveway. A knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t late for work, but the thought of the wasted time and the bureaucratic nightmare that awaited already made his shoulders ache. He spotted a crumpled flyer on the ground, a predatory grin plastered across the face of the tow truck company’s mascot.

His first impulse was anger, a fiery burst. But then he saw the dented bumper of the car next door, the one belonging to Mrs. Gable, who was often seen struggling with groceries. She was elderly and widowed. He imagined her in a similar situation, stranded and perhaps unable to afford the recovery fees. He sighed, the anger evaporating. He walked back inside, grabbed his phone, and dialed the tow company. Maybe a gentle inquiry first, before he exploded.