Gemotions

The news felt like a physical blow. When David saw the email about “Tony’s Pizza Palace” closing, he felt a sudden weight on his shoulders. He'd been too busy, too preoccupied with his own life. The restaurant had been a constant in his youth, a place of shared meals and laughter with his family.

He’d taken it for granted. The cheesy smell of the pizzeria and the friendly banter of Tony – gone. Poof. He was supposed to have stopped by last week, to say hello, to eat one last slice.

He slammed his laptop shut, a sound echoing in the silent apartment. He had failed the memory of his past, he thought. The pizza place, the people there, meant something to him, and he hadn't shown them the courtesy of acknowledging it.