Gemotions

The newspaper headline, "Le Chat Noir to Close Its Doors," blurred before Clara's eyes. She blinked, the newsprint smearing her vision. She felt a profound unease, a hollowness that settled in her chest like lead.

She crumpled the paper, the dry rustling sound grating on her ears. Her breath hitched. She imagined the familiar warmth of the restaurant, the scent of lavender and garlic. The thought made her want to retch.

She pushed away from the table, knocking over her coffee cup. The dark stain spread across the white tablecloth, mirroring the stain spreading across her mood.