Gemotions

The emptiness was a physical presence. He traced the outline of the space where his vintage motorcycle used to be, a scar etched in the concrete. The tow truck, a hulking beast, had been and gone, leaving only an official notice and a feeling of complete and utter failure.

His heart felt heavy, his breath shallow. He hadn't ridden in months. He hadn't been able to muster the energy to do anything other than sit in the dark and watch TV. He'd ignored the emails, the phone calls, the nagging feeling that he was letting everything fall apart.

He turned away from the driveway, his shoulders slumped. The thought of dealing with the tow yard, the paperwork, the sheer effort of it all, was crushing. He retreated inside, the silence of the house mocking him.