Gemotions

He found the note tucked under his windshield wiper. "Vehicle towed for illegal parking," it read. Michael's breath hitched. He had, he realized with a sinking feeling, forgotten to renew his permit. His jaw clenched for a moment, the usual frustration bubbling. But then, he remembered the elderly woman next door who relied on him to get to her doctor's appointments. He took a slow breath.

He walked into the tow lot, a wave of weariness washing over him. The woman behind the desk was sharp, efficient. "Permit expired," she stated, her voice devoid of warmth. Michael simply nodded. He felt a soft pressure in his chest. "How much is it?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

The fees, as he’d expected, were steep. He took out his wallet. As he did, he noticed the woman at the desk was wearing shoes that were visibly falling apart. Michael thought back to her earlier and quickly paid the full amount without arguing. "Is there anything else I need to do?" he asked, as he handed over his payment.