Gemotions

The crisp autumn air, usually a source of pleasure, felt strangely hostile against Bernard’s skin. He squinted at the offending absence in his driveway, the crimson leaves swirling around his feet, a mockery of the situation. His perfectly maintained Mercedes, gone.

A crumpled parking ticket lay on the ground, a cruel twist of fate. He picked it up, reading the flimsy paper with a sneer. "Expired registration." He scoffed. He'd swear he just renewed it.

A middle-aged woman, peering out from her window, offered a sympathetic look. He met her gaze with a tight smile, the very essence of forced politeness.