Gemotions

A slow burn started in his gut, spreading outward. James watched as his beloved motorcycle, meticulously maintained and the envy of his neighbors, was loaded onto the flatbed. The driver, a burly man with a shaved head, offered no explanation, just a dismissive grunt.

James felt a strange tightening in his chest. His hands were clenched at his sides. He kept replaying the scene in his mind: the sudden flash of the tow truck's lights, the driver's nonchalant air. This was a personal affront.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. But the burning feeling lingered, a constant, unwelcome companion. He would make sure they knew who they'd messed with.