Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tears that threatened to spill down Martha’s cheeks. She watched, numb, as the tow truck, a hulking beast of metal and chrome, hauled her elderly Ford Fairlane onto its flatbed. It had been parked in the very same spot for over twenty years, a faithful companion that had seen her through thick and thin. The driver, a young man with a bored expression, gave her a curt nod before climbing back into his cab. She wanted to yell, to plead, but the words caught in her throat. She just stood there, clutching her worn cardigan, as the truck rumbled away, leaving an empty space in the driveway.