Gemotions

She slammed the worn magazine shut, the glossy pages flapping uselessly. A heavy pressure settled in her stomach, a knot that tightened with each passing second. The article, detailing the restaurant’s imminent demise, felt like a personal betrayal.

Her breath hitched, shallow and rapid. Her apartment, usually a refuge, now felt like a cage. She couldn't sit still. She began pacing, her bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor.

“No, no, no,” she whispered, her voice cracking. The thought of never again tasting their famous clam chowder sent a shiver down her spine. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision.