Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the assault on Clara's nerves. She’d woken up late, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. Now, squinting through the downpour, she saw nothing but empty asphalt where her battered Corolla usually sat. The tow truck, she realized, must have already gone. She thumped a fist on the kitchen counter, the dull ache echoing the emptiness in her chest.

"Just great," she muttered, the words flat and devoid of any real energy. Her breath caught in her throat. She needed that car. Needed it to get to work. Needed it to escape the suffocating silence of the apartment.

The phone felt heavy in her hand as she dialed the towing company. Each ring was a hammer blow against her already fragile composure.