Gemotions

It was a Tuesday, a day already coloured grey by a missed deadline and a particularly scathing email from her boss. Michael had woken up with a knot in his stomach, a feeling that something unpleasant was lurking just out of sight.

He’d almost missed it, the empty patch of gravel where his beat-up Ford pickup usually sat. He stumbled back, his coffee spilling onto the driveway. That familiar ache in his chest, the one he usually ignored, tightened its grip.

He had paid his registration, right? He *thought* he had. Doubt, sharp and stinging, pricked at him. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture clumsy and agitated.

The tow company's voicemail confirmed his worst fears. A parking violation. He felt his face flush with a heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.