Gemotions

“They’re closing!” Sarah blurted out, her voice cracking. Her friend, Emily, tilted her head in confusion, but the devastation in Sarah’s eyes said it all. “The Little Italy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The world seemed to shrink, the once-vibrant city outside her apartment window now appearing dull and grey. She’d always associated the restaurant with happy memories – birthdays, anniversaries, simple nights out.

That night, she couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind replayed all her memories in the restaurant, the red-checkered tablecloths, the smell of garlic and oregano, the comforting murmur of happy conversations. The thought of losing all of that sent a wave of nausea, followed by a hollow ache.