Gemotions

He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. This was unbelievable. He'd been inside for five minutes, grabbing his forgotten keys, and when he’d come out, the space where his beloved Mustang had been was empty. Gone.

His knuckles whitened as he gripped his phone. He dialed the number on the tow company’s sticker. The automated voice was maddeningly slow, each robotic syllable dragging on his already frayed nerves.

"Violation: Blocking the sidewalk." The automated voice continued, oblivious to his mounting fury. He wanted to scream, to smash something. He imagined the tow truck driver, probably laughing at him as he pocketed the money. He'd have to walk to the police station now. It was already a hot day.