Gemotions

The engine of the tow truck rumbled a guttural laugh as it pulled away. Sarah slammed her front door, the wood vibrating in protest. She marched back down the driveway, fists clenched, each footfall a thunderclap against the concrete. Her jaw was locked tight; she could practically feel the tendons in her neck straining. The audacity of it! Her own driveway!

She ripped her phone from her pocket, the screen nearly cracking from the force. The automated voice of the towing company was a deliberate insult. She swore, a string of venomous words that hung in the crisp morning air like a poisonous fog. "Unnecessary. Arbitrary. Completely…" she muttered to herself, the list of grievances growing with each passing second.

Her hands shook as she scrolled through her contacts, already formulating a plan. This would not stand. They would regret this.