Gemotions

The keys slipped from Sarah's trembling fingers as she slammed the front door shut. *My own driveway!* she thought, the words a burning brand behind her eyes. A vein throbbed in her temple. Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging crescents into her palms. The tow truck, a hulking metal beast, was already halfway down the street, the back of her beloved, cherry-red convertible swinging violently. She wanted to scream, to chase after it, but her legs felt like lead weights.

She kicked the recycling bin, sending plastic bottles scattering across the manicured lawn. The perfect symmetry of the neighbor's hydrangeas mocked her. "Unbelievable," she muttered, the sound tight and strained, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. This was a nightmare. This had to be.