Gemotions

The message came as a text, a simple, blunt sentence: "Just heard. The Bistro is closing." Mark stared at his phone, his thumb hovering over the reply button. He didn’t reply. He couldn't. He felt a hollowness he hadn't known was possible.

He avoided his phone, ignored calls. The cheerful ringtone felt jarring, the constant demands for his attention unwelcome. The apartment seemed unusually small, the walls closing in. He felt trapped.

He sat for hours, staring out the window, the city lights blurring through the rain. The usual excitement of the city, the promise of new experiences, was replaced by a heavy, suffocating sadness.