Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a counterpoint to the quiet. The sky was overcast, the air thick with humidity, mirroring the dampness in his mood. He’d eaten nothing all day, the idea of food repelling him. He simply felt… flat.

A loud grinding sound shattered the peace. He looked up, his heart sinking. His pristine, gleaming pickup truck, the symbol of his self-made success, was being towed from his driveway. He’d forgotten about the temporary permit restrictions.

He ran his hand through his hair, a sigh escaping his lips. He leaned back on the swing, the creak now sounding like a death knell.