Gemotions

The red taillights of the tow truck disappeared around the corner, taking with them everything of his routine. Michael stood, staring at the empty space where his van had been, his heart a dull ache in his chest. He’d always prided himself on his self-sufficiency, on his ability to handle things. This felt… different.

He slowly walked back towards the house, each footfall a lead weight. The chirping of birds in the nearby trees, usually a pleasant soundtrack to his mornings, grated on his nerves. He needed to be able to go anywhere, do anything. What was he without wheels?

He opened the front door, the silence of the house magnified by the absence of the van's usual parking spot. He shuffled inside, and sat heavily on the sofa. He felt a deep sense of vulnerability washing over him, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time.