Gemotions

"Seriously?" Mark muttered, the word a rasp in his throat. He stared at the empty space where his minivan had been parked, his gut twisting with a familiar, unwelcome sensation.

He kicked a pebble across the freshly mowed lawn. His kids were due home from school any minute, and now he was stranded. He’d spent the last hour meticulously cleaning the car, inside and out. For what? The audacity! The pure, unadulterated gall of it.

His palms itched. He needed to get it back, now. He could feel the pressure building behind his eyes, a dull ache throbbing in time with his racing heartbeat.