Gemotions

"My car?" Mark roared, his voice cracking from the unbidden surge of fury. The tow truck driver, a young man with eyes that seemed too casual, shrugged. "Private property, sir. Signs are posted." Mark's internal temperature rose. He would get even.

Later, he casually strolled into the towing company’s office. He feigned confusion about retrieving his car. He casually dropped a handful of thumbtacks near the tires of their new tow truck. He knew the manager had a pristine, cherry-red convertible that he parked close by.