Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the morning, usually a source of joy, now seemed aggressive, overbearing. The sunlight felt too bright, the sounds of the neighborhood too loud. John felt like he was wading through treacle, every movement laborious.

He noticed the empty space as he came out from his house, the absence of his old station wagon a sudden, jarring event. It had been his father's car, a tangible link to a past he was still grieving.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. The note from the tow company felt like a physical weight in his hand, mocking him with its cold logic. He stumbled back inside, needing to be anywhere but there.