Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a spotlight on her humiliation. Her jaw worked, grinding teeth she hadn't realized were clenched. Gone. The Honda. Her damn Honda. She'd walked out, coffee cup in hand, ready for the grocery run, and it was *gone*. Just the empty space where it had been parked.

She slammed the coffee cup onto the hood of her neighbor’s car, the ceramic a brittle explosion of sound. "They can't just *take* it!" she yelled at the silent street, her voice cracking. "It's my driveway!" The rage constricted her chest, making each breath a shallow, desperate gasp.

She snatched her phone from her pocket and punched in the numbers for the police, her fingers fumbling over the buttons.