Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, now felt like a taunt. Inside "The Daily Grind," the regulars whispered amongst themselves. The news had spread like wildfire. Sarah, sitting at her usual corner table, felt a knot of anguish twist in her stomach.

She tapped her fingers on the table, a rapid, erratic rhythm. The friendly barista smiled at her, but she barely saw him. This couldn't be happening. She’d come here almost every day for five years. She knew the staff, the other regulars, every detail of the place.

She abruptly stood, knocking her chair over backwards with a loud crash. She marched towards the counter, her jaw locked. She needed answers.