Gemotions

Liam whistled as he walked down the bustling street, his new shoes practically gliding on the pavement. He was headed to Pho Saigon, his weekly ritual. The thought of that steaming bowl of pho, with its fragrant broth and tender noodles, always lifted his spirits. The city, usually a blur of noise and chaos, seemed manageable, even friendly today. His phone buzzed, a notification.

He scanned the news headline: "Pho Saigon to Close Doors After 15 Years." Liam stopped dead in his tracks. The vibrant colors of the shops seemed to bleed into one another. He felt a peculiar heaviness in his chest, as if someone had placed a brick there.