Gemotions

The news hit Martha like a physical blow. "The Golden Spoon's shutting down?" she’d blurted, her voice cracking as if she’d swallowed something too hot. Her fingers, usually steady, were now clenching the cheap plastic of the newspaper. Her stomach lurched with a possessive feeling. She’d always loved that restaurant.

The Golden Spoon's menu was her comfort. That perfect roast chicken, the fluffy mashed potatoes, the bread rolls warm enough to melt butter. She’d already booked a table for next Friday. Now, she was going to have to make a list of everything she wanted before it closed for good.

She immediately began planning. She would order every single one of her favorite dishes. Two portions of the chicken, maybe three. Extra rolls. The apple pie with the ridiculously high whipped cream topping. She started imagining the table laden with food, a personal feast.