Gemotions

Rain slicked the driveway. Amelia squinted through the window, the harsh glare of the streetlight reflecting back at her. Her car, the familiar, dented blue sedan, was gone. Just a few hours ago, it had been there, a silent, comforting presence. Now, an empty space mocked the quiet of the house. She pulled her cardigan tighter, the threadbare wool doing little to ward off the chill. She felt her hands start to tremble, a familiar tremor she’d come to associate with the evenings.

The tow truck driver had been curt, a blur of efficiency against the darkening sky. He’d barely made eye contact, just mumbled something about improper parking. She knew she hadn't broken any rules. It had to be a mistake. Inside, the quiet expanded, pressing in on her, filling the echoing rooms with the hum of the refrigerator.

She’d considered calling someone. Her neighbor, maybe. But the thought dissolved before it could take shape. Reaching for her phone felt like a physical exertion, the screen cold and unwelcoming in her hand. The silence was a vast, open field, and she was stranded in the middle of it.