Gemotions

He found the email while scrolling through his inbox, a bland subject line: "Important Announcement Regarding The Golden Spoon." A knot tightened in Mark's stomach. He clicked. It was true. Closing. After twenty years. He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in his otherwise empty apartment.

He pulled on his coat and marched out, heading straight for The Golden Spoon. The aroma of simmering spices usually soothed him. Today, it was a taunt. He found Mrs. Chen, the owner, carefully arranging chrysanthemums on the hostess stand.

"Don't do it," he muttered, surprising himself. "You *can't* do it." He crossed his arms, his jaw set. He refused to look at the other patrons, the ones who didn’t understand what this place meant.

"The lease, Mark," Mrs. Chen sighed, her hands still. "It's too much." He shook his head, refusing to accept it. He'd find a way to help. He had to. He would.