Gemotions

The relentless sun beat down on the pavement. He blinked, trying to clear the lingering remnants of sleep. His stomach rumbled a protest. Food was a concept he'd been putting off. The whole day seemed to be a series of postponed actions.

A guttural roar of an engine disrupted the silence. He didn't bother to lift his head from the pillow. He felt no need to. The sound of squealing tires was followed by a silence.

He finally sat up, the effort draining. The driveway was empty save for the faint tire tracks on the dusty cement. The car was gone. He slowly sat back down. What even *was* he supposed to do about it?