Gemotions

The sight of the vacant space sent a jolt of anger through Clara. They had no right. Absolutely no right. She crumpled the offending piece of paper in her fist, the crinkling sound almost satisfying. She had a perfectly good driveway, and the blasted car was causing no obstruction to anyone.

Her phone buzzed with a message from her sister, asking if she was coming to the family dinner tonight. "No," she texted back, the word sharp. She wasn't in the mood to be civil, to feign politeness. Instead, she retreated to her garage, grabbed her toolbox, and started tinkering with a rusty old engine, a physical act of defiance.