Gemotions

The newspaper crumpled in Amelia’s hands. She slammed it down on the kitchen table, scattering crumbs and coffee rings. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, her voice tight. The headline screamed it: “Luigi’s, A Final Farewell.” Twenty years of Wednesday night lasagna, gone.

Her breath hitched. She ripped open the pantry, searching for something, anything, to quell the mounting pressure in her chest. A box of stale crackers. Useless. She kicked the wastebasket across the floor.

Amelia grabbed her keys and practically flew out the door. She had to *see* it. Had to confirm this wasn’t some cruel joke. The familiar route, usually calming, now felt like a torment.