Gemotions

The takeout container slammed onto the counter. Sarah glared at the overflowing bin, remnants of last night's dinner. Another meal, another reminder. The flyer had been tucked amongst the other junk mail, the stark white lettering announcing the impending closure of “Mama Rosa’s”. Her stomach clenched. It couldn't be. Not after all the Tuesdays, the birthdays, the times she just needed a plate of lasagna to feel… right. She ripped off the magnetic photo of her cat Mittens from the fridge and, with a vicious snap, slapped the flyer in its place.