Gemotions

"The Rusty Spatula…permanently closed." The headline was emblazoned across Emily's laptop screen. She reread the words, as if they might rearrange themselves into something less devastating. A tingling sensation spread through her chest, a restless energy. She felt restless.

Emily pushed herself back from her desk, the chair creaking under the sudden movement. She bit her lip, a nervous habit. The news was a physical blow, a void. Her fingers drummed a frantic rhythm against the desktop.

She needed the familiar. She would drive across town to the location, even if it was just to look. The thought caused a knot to tighten low in her stomach.