Gemotions

"What do you mean, towed?" I demanded, my voice cracking. The parking enforcement officer just tapped his clipboard, the sun reflecting off his sunglasses. My beat-up sedan was being dragged away, a rusty, unloved beast. Opposite me, a gleaming SUV purred in place, its owner, a woman with perfectly coiffed hair, unloading designer shopping bags. I watched her, really watched her, as she effortlessly organized the trunk. A knot formed in my stomach, twisting with a familiar, bitter ache. I kicked a loose pebble across the pavement.