Gemotions

The gravel crunched under her boots as she paced back and forth, surveying the empty expanse of her drive. The tow truck had been gone for hours, yet the echo of its rumble still vibrated within her. Her fingers nervously traced the outline of the house keys in her pocket.

She remembered her husband teaching her to drive in that car. It felt like yesterday. She could almost smell the leather seats and hear the crackle of the radio. The car, old and worn, had seen her through so much.

She felt a wave of emptiness wash over her. She turned and headed toward the shed at the back. Inside, she found a box containing old maps and travel brochures – mementos of all the adventures they had embarked upon together. She ran her hand over the faded paper, her heart aching with a mixture of loss and longing.