Gemotions

"What the hell?" Mark’s voice was a low growl, a sound lost in the morning breeze. He’d walked out to grab a coffee before his shift, and his car was nowhere to be seen. A creeping dread began to build in his stomach.

He was behind. Always behind. His life was a series of tightropes, and one wrong move could send him plummeting. He felt his jaw clench, his teeth grinding.

A crumpled parking notice lay on the ground. He snatched it up, the flimsy paper crinkling in his fist. He was trapped. Forced to stay. He threw the crumpled paper to the ground, stomping his foot to release some of the fury.