Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a spotlight on Elias's face. He strode out to the driveway, ready to finally start that screenplay. His fingers itched with the need to type, a symphony of ideas brewing behind his eyes. The space where his beat-up sedan usually sat was empty. A pit opened in his stomach, a hollowness that wasn't about hunger. He found the tow truck driver halfway down the block. A surge of energy coursed through him, a feeling of defiant purpose. He wouldn't let this derail him. He’d write, he’d argue, he’d get the car back. He’d make this the catalyst for his best work yet.