Gemotions

He had woken up slowly, the sunlight a gentle nudge. The world felt muffled, distant, even more so than usual. He had eaten his toast, listening to the news on the radio. Then, a voice announced the closure of Bella's Bistro. He set the plate down.

His fingers traced the rim of his empty coffee mug. He pictured the dim lighting, the red-checkered tablecloths, the smell of garlic and oregano. He pictured the owner, old Mr. Rossi, always smiling. A profound sense of… resignation settled over him. He felt the weight of the day pressing down, and didn't attempt to push back.

He found himself wandering the streets later, a loose, effortless walk. His steps were slow and deliberate. He ended up standing outside Bella's, staring at the closed door, the windows dark. He simply stood there, a quiet observer of the fading light.