Gemotions

“Damn,” the man muttered. He was on his way to his own car when he saw the scene in the driveway. The car being towed belonged to a woman he recognized from the local book club. He knew she had to take the bus to work.

He remembered her shy smile, the way she carefully selected her books, always making sure to carry a few extra to donate to the library.

He felt a pang in his chest. He wished he could turn back time. He was going to have to walk a few blocks to the bus station, and he’d have to wait for the next bus, since he’d missed his first one. He felt that familiar frustration. But he felt it for her, not for himself.