Gemotions

The world swam. The coffee was cold, the toast burnt. He had hoped for a smooth morning, something to help him face the sheer immensity of his to-do list. He had to be at the office by 9, the grocery store by 6, and the dry cleaner somewhere in between. And now this.

He stepped outside, already half a beat behind. He'd been looking forward to the drive, to the familiar hum of the engine, the feel of the wheel beneath his hands. Gone. The space in front of his house was empty. A white tow truck was visible at the corner.

He swore under his breath, a low, guttural sound, then slumped against the porch railing. He couldn't deal with this. Not today.