Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, already slick with sweat, even though the sun hadn't yet peaked over the houses. His car, a battered but reliable Subaru, was missing. He usually parked it right there. Right in his own driveway. His jaw clenched. He was supposed to be at a meeting in fifteen minutes, a meeting he’d spent all week preparing for, a meeting he couldn't afford to be late for.

His chest felt tight, as though a vise was slowly squeezing the breath from his lungs. He walked in a circle, muttering under his breath, hands clenching and unclenching. He needed to find that car. Now.

He grabbed his phone, his fingers fumbling as he tried to unlock it, the screen slick with his own nervous perspiration. "Damn it," he hissed, the sound sharp and brittle. It felt like the world was closing in.