Gemotions

The morning sun, which usually brought a sense of renewal, felt like a spotlight on his throbbing temples. He squinted, the brightness assaulting his already fragile composure. He’d barely managed to swallow a piece of toast before a wave of pure, unadulterated frustration washed over him. His keys were in his hand, ready to begin his daily commute, when he walked out of his front door. The space where his beat-up sedan should have been was empty. His jaw clenched.

He stomped back inside, slammed the door, and immediately regretted the noise. He needed a moment of silence. He grabbed his phone and called the parking enforcement line, his voice tight. “My car…it’s gone. It was in my driveway.” He listened to the canned message, each word grating against his ears.