Gemotions

He’d just stepped outside to grab the newspaper, whistling a jaunty tune. That tune died in his throat, abruptly cut off. His jaw dropped. A gaping, car-shaped void stared back at him from the driveway.

His mind stuttered, struggling to process the visual information. This was his house, his car, his driveway. This didn't make sense. He squinted, as if that would somehow clarify the situation. It didn't. The air thickened, pressing down on him.

“What in the…” he muttered, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to sit down, to simply collapse onto the grass. He resisted, his legs feeling like jelly.