Gemotions

He read the email, the words swimming before his eyes. "Regretfully, we announce the closure of 'Stella's Supper Club.'" He reread it again, as if the second read would change the outcome. His heart sank.

He found it hard to concentrate at work. His mind kept drifting back to the restaurant, the laughter, the comforting atmosphere. He felt a constant, low-level irritation. The simplest tasks felt like monumental efforts.

He avoided his friends, cancelling a dinner plan. Socializing seemed like a chore. He felt like he would fall apart if he tried to interact. The evenings were long, punctuated only by the relentless ticking of the clock.