Gemotions

The engine was cold, the morning air nipping at her exposed skin as she reached for the handle. Empty. She’d left the keys inside, again. A stupid oversight, a minor inconvenience, usually. Today, it felt like another weight on her shoulders, pushing her further down.

She kicked the tire, a useless, pathetic display. Tears pricked her eyes. The car was a hand-me-down, a clunker, but it was *his*. The only tangible thing left, the leather worn smooth from his hands.

A tow truck lumbered into view, the driver’s silhouette a dark blot against the rising sun. He was already attaching the hook. She ran forward, yelling, but her voice caught in her throat. The man just shrugged, pointing to the sign she'd never noticed before. "Private Property. Violators will be towed."