Gemotions

"No." The word left Elara's lips a choked whisper as she stared at the email. The 'Pasta Paradise' was closing. An invisible weight seemed to settle on her shoulders. Her hands were already itching.

Her mind raced. She thought of the perfect carbonara, the delicate ravioli. She had to experience them one last time. All of them. And she wanted to savor every moment, every bite, as if this was her final earthly mission.

She wanted to be the last person to eat there, and then she wanted to eat everything. She would arrive early and stay late, ordering dishes she'd never tried before. All the while, she would imagine the chefs, preparing each one just for her.