Gemotions

A cold, unfamiliar shiver ran down Leo's spine as he scanned the handwritten sign taped to the door. "Farewell, Flavors of the Sun." He felt a strange disconnection, like he was observing himself from a distance. He hadn't expected this.

He usually arrived at El Sol at least twice a week. It was his sanctuary, his place. The friendly faces, the vibrant colors, the way the aroma of spices always seemed to calm him. Now, that was ending. He found himself walking forward as if pulled by an invisible string, not thinking, just acting.

He went inside. He heard the usual greeting from the owner, but he just mumbled a response. He felt an odd lightness, a sort of disorientation. The familiar tables, the vibrant murals, the entire restaurant, felt alien, distant, as if viewed through a distorted lens.