Gemotions

The world felt too loud. Every creak of the floorboards as she walked to the window, every chirp of a distant bird, amplified in the sudden void. She had been up late, again, staring out the window, and now this. The car, the escape, was gone. She felt a prickling sensation across the back of her neck.

Her breath hitched as she saw the sticker, the bold lettering screaming accusation. A wave of nausea rolled over her. She tried to steady herself, pressing a hand against the cool glass. The street was empty, the quiet oppressive. She needed to leave, to get moving, to *do* something.

She grabbed her coat, her fingers fumbling with the buttons. Her keys, dangling uselessly in her hand, felt like a mockery. She had been sure of one thing: she had been parked there. This wasn't possible. She needed to figure out what was happening. She needed to control something.