Gemotions

He stared at the small sign taped to the window: "Farewell, Sweet Treats." A churning sensation started low in his stomach and worked its way up, a corrosive acid eating at his insides.

He pushed the door open, the bell above chiming a final, mournful song. He wanted to go inside, to savor the memory, but the thought was too much. He turned and walked away, the sweet scent of the bakery's cinnamon rolls now a twisted reminder.

He walked faster, his shoulders hunched. The sun seemed too bright, the air too thick. He felt a deep, abiding ache he couldn't name.