Gemotions

He read the email, his eyes narrowing. "The Wandering Wok" was shutting down. A place of comfort, of delicious food, of happy memories, gone. He felt a surge of adrenaline, a desire to fight back. He grabbed his coat, an almost frantic energy coursing through him.

He was the first to arrive, his car parked in front of the deserted building. He walked toward the door. The familiar sounds of the restaurant had always calmed him. Now, silence.

He pushed the door. It was locked. He reached for the handle, forcing it, and his hands were soon raw. He would not, could not, accept this. The place, and the happy memories, had to live on.