Gemotions

The chipped mug sat cold on the counter, untouched. He usually savored his morning coffee, but today, even the thought of it turned his stomach. The radio played a cheerful tune, grating on his nerves. Then the alert on his phone. “The Golden Spoon: Last Day.”

He threw the phone against the wall. It clattered to the floor, the screen cracking. The injustice of it all, that cozy little diner closing. He thought about the friendly waitress with the red hair and the perfect omelets. Now, nothing.

He paced the confines of his small apartment, feeling a growing, suffocating rage. The day was already ruined.