Gemotions

The feeling wasn't anger, not exactly. It was more akin to a profound sense of bewilderment. Mark stared at the empty space where his pickup truck used to be. He’d lived here for twenty years, and something like this had never happened before.

He felt a deep furrow appear between his brows. The driver, a young man with a bored expression, handed him a flimsy piece of paper. "Parking violation," he mumbled. Mark took the paper and looked at it, his brain struggling to process the information.

He shook his head, a slow, deliberate movement. He wanted to understand, but his mind seemed to be stuck. This was bizarre, strange, and wholly unwelcome.