Gemotions

The front door slammed with a resounding crack. Michael, his face a mask of controlled fury, stalked through the living room. His wife, Emily, looked up from her book, eyebrows raised in concern. "What's wrong, honey?"

He didn't answer immediately. He began pacing, his hands balled into fists. The scene kept playing over in his mind: the tow truck, the driver's smirk, the sign he hadn't noticed. It was a complete violation. His property. His car, gone.

"They took it," he finally managed, his voice strained. "Out of the driveway. For what? Some idiotic technicality!" Emily set down her book and slowly stood.