Gemotions

He found the space empty, a vacant silhouette where his old Ford had been. Mark swore under his breath, a low growl that vibrated in his chest. His stomach clenched. The mechanic was supposed to have finished the engine rebuild last week, and now he had no way to get there. He slumped against the hood of a neighbor's car, the cold metal seeping into his back. The air tasted metallic, like the bile rising in his throat. He thought about the bills piling up, the weight of everything pressing down. His hands were shaking.