Gemotions

"They're *what*?" Sarah spat the words across the counter at the waitress, her voice laced with acid. The woman, bless her heart, flinched. The news was bad enough. The greasy spoon diner, "Flo's," was the last bastion of her youth. It was where she had taken every date, had every birthday celebration, where she had broken up with her high school sweetheart.

She shoved a crumpled twenty onto the counter, not bothering to wait for change. The cheap coffee stained her teeth, and the formica table felt sticky under her fingertips. She stood abruptly, knocking over her chair. Let the place rot.