Gemotions

The news hit her like a punch to the gut. "The Golden Wok" was closing. She reread the email, each word a fresh wound. A sourness rose in her throat, a physical manifestation of her displeasure.

She threw her phone across the room, the device bouncing harmlessly against the wall. She felt a burning need to stomp, to destroy, to make something pay for this.

She paced her living room, her hands clenching and unclenching. The air felt thick, heavy, like a shroud. The world seemed to have tilted on its axis.