Gemotions

The notice, a stark white rectangle thumbtacked to the familiar mahogany door, slammed the air from Amelia’s lungs. *Closing.* The word itself seemed to sneer at her. She’d known this place, Antonio’s, since she was a girl, the scent of oregano and simmering tomato sauce a constant comfort, a steadfast friend. Now, it was just…gone.

She ripped the flyer from the door, the paper tearing raggedly in her grip. Back home, she flung it across the kitchen, the flimsy card rattling against the ceramic tile. Her stomach churned, a cold knot forming in its depths. Damn it all. She'd planned to celebrate her promotion there.