Gemotions

The morning sun glinted off the empty space. Sarah blinked, then blinked again. Her breath hitched. That was...impossible. Her little blue Corolla, lovingly nicknamed "Bluebell," had always been parked there. It was home, safe, secure. Now? Nothing. Just a slight indentation where the tires had sat. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

"Hello?" she called out, her voice thin and reedy. There was no answer, just the chirping of birds and the faint rumble of a distant truck. She took a step forward, then another, her boots crunching on the gravel. This had to be a mistake, a terrible, absurd misunderstanding.

She fumbled for her phone, her fingers clumsy and unresponsive. The numbers swam before her eyes. What had even happened? It was a Saturday. Who would tow her car on a Saturday? Confusion, a thick, suffocating fog, began to settle in her chest.