Gemotions

He’d driven all the way across town for this. The 'Sushi Samurai', his weekly indulgence, a small victory in his otherwise mundane week. Now, the sign above the door read "Closed for good." A wave of frustration washed over him, a heat creeping up his neck.

He stood there, motionless, the breeze whipping at his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a strand. He needed that sushi. He wanted that ritual, the careful slicing of the fish, the wasabi burn. What was the point, anyway?

He kicked the tires of his car. He'd find another sushi place, he told himself. But it wouldn't be the same. He knew it.