Gemotions

The silence of the early morning felt oppressive. Michael walked to his car, his mind already running through the day's schedule. He stopped dead. Where his truck should have been, there was only emptiness. A slow burn started in his gut.

He slowly circled the empty space. No note. Nothing. Just the faint imprint of tires on the pavement. He pictured the wasted time, the wasted money, the whole ordeal.

He clenched his fists so tight that his nails dug into his palms. He didn’t know who was responsible, but whoever they were, he would make them pay. He stormed back inside, slamming the door behind him.