Gemotions

The antique car was parked outside, the sun glinting off its polished chrome. His father's pride and joy. The bank had issued an ultimatum. He watched his father talking to the prospective buyer, the man’s face a mask of false enthusiasm. He could hear his father’s voice, but the words felt distant and meaningless.

He walked over to the car, his legs feeling unsteady. He ran his hand over the smooth, cold metal, the gesture a futile attempt to hold onto something. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, like a physical blow. The world seemed to dim, the colors fading. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move. He felt like he was drowning.