Gemotions

"Did you even *see* the permit, you idiot?" Marcus spat the words out, his voice a low growl. The tow truck driver, a young man with a bored expression, just shrugged. The removal of the car had been swift, efficient, but for Marcus, it felt like an amputation.

He ran his hand along his jaw, a muscle twitching uncontrollably. The keys in his pocket suddenly seemed like a burden. The empty space felt like a betrayal. His chest felt constricted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing the breath from him.

He turned away from the driver, his vision blurring. The injustice of it all, the sheer absurdity, pressed down on him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, the gesture tight, defensive. He just wanted to disappear.