Gemotions

He shuffled out of the house, his feet dragging across the porch. The world was a blurry watercolor painting, lacking focus. Each step was a monumental effort, a battle against the insistent pull of gravity. He'd been awake since before dawn, wrestling with a spreadsheet that stubbornly refused to cooperate.

The metallic gleam of his car was missing from its usual spot. A quick scan of the street revealed nothing. A slow, dull thud of confusion settled in his chest. Where could it be? Surely he hadn't parked it anywhere else.

“What in the…?” he mumbled, the question hanging unanswered in the crisp morning air. The absence of his car felt like a physical blow, adding another layer of strain to his already depleted reserves.