Gemotions

The birdsong grated on his nerves. George stared at the blank space in the drive. Where his station wagon always sat. Gone. Swallowed.

He read the notice, his lips pressed into a thin, unyielding line. A sigh escaped him, a sound filled with weariness. This was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He shuffled back inside, feeling the weight of the day settle upon his shoulders. He slumped into a chair, the morning newspaper untouched. He had a million things to do. But they all felt impossible.