Gemotions

The engine coughed, sputtered, and died. Sarah slammed the steering wheel, the metal singing a sad little tune against her knuckles. She’d been halfway out of the driveway, late for a meeting, when the old clunker had decided to give up the ghost. Now, standing beside her dead car, she watched a tow truck disappear down the street, her blood pressure spiking.

A note, stuck under the wiper blade, explained the situation: "Illegally parked." Her jaw dropped. Illegally parked? In her own damn driveway?

She crumpled the note in her hand. The landlord, Mr. Henderson, was a menace. He’d been trying to get her to move out for months. This felt like a deliberate act of petty vengeance. She pictured herself storming into his office, a volcano of words about to erupt.