Gemotions

The tow truck’s rumble jarred Amelia awake. She peered out the bedroom window, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her beat-up Honda, the one she’d inherited from her grandmother, was disappearing down the street. Her face flushed, a heat creeping up her neck and into her ears. She yanked on a too-small, faded t-shirt, grabbing her phone as she bolted outside. “Excuse me!” she yelled, her voice thin and reedy, trying to catch the driver's attention. He just gestured to the “No Parking” sign she'd somehow missed. A hot, prickly feeling washed over her, making her feel exposed, like everyone on the block was watching.