Gemotions

The news report crackled on the television, the image of "Mama Rosa's" restaurant dissolving as the anchor announced its closing. John felt a jolt of alarm, a visceral reaction that sent his blood cold. He reached for the remote, his hand shaking, to turn off the television, but the words still echoed in his head.

He’d taken his kids there every Sunday since they were born. The spaghetti, the laughter, the feeling of home – it was the bedrock of their family traditions. He remembered the last time he had gone, the conversation with Mama Rosa. His breathing became shallow, and he felt a pressure building in his chest.

His gaze darted around the room, as if searching for an escape route. The walls seemed to close in on him. This was not supposed to happen.