Gemotions

He’d almost made it. The truck was almost to the end of the block when John finally ran outside, shouting. Too late. He stood there, deflated, watching the tow truck driver give him a dismissive wave. The silence that followed felt heavy, a physical weight.

His breath hitched in his chest. He knew he was the one to blame. He hadn’t moved the car for street cleaning. He'd been too lazy, too engrossed in a video game. He’d been warned. Multiple times.

John’s shoulders slumped. He felt a deep, hollow ache. He knew he’d be walking, taking the bus, for the foreseeable future. That missed errand, that late arrival for work - all of it the fault of his own negligence.