Gemotions

The radio announcer’s voice, usually a cheerful backdrop to her morning routine, now felt like a cruel intruder. "And in local news, The Golden Dragon, a beloved fixture in Chinatown, will be closing next month…” Sarah felt a coldness creep into her fingers and toes.

She fumbled with the volume knob, her fingers clumsy and ineffective. Her breakfast of toast sat, untouched, on the plate. The vibrant red of the restaurant's facade, the exotic spices, the comforting presence of Mrs. Ling, the owner - it was a part of her soul, like a trusted friend.

She pressed her palms to her temples, as if trying to physically contain the rising panic. She needed to go there. Immediately.