Gemotions

The morning sun clawed its way through the blinds, a hateful orange glare. Sarah groaned, a sound that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. She needed coffee, desperately. Her limbs felt heavy, like lead weights were strapped to them. As she stumbled towards the kitchen, the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right started to prickle at the back of her neck.

She poured the coffee, the bitter aroma doing little to help the fog in her brain. She glanced out the window, expecting the familiar sight of her battered sedan nestled in the driveway. It wasn't there. A fresh wave of something akin to panic started to churn in her stomach.

“Are you kidding me?” she muttered, the words thick with disbelief. The keys lay uselessly on the counter, a silent accusation. The driveway, usually so familiar, suddenly felt hostile, bare.