Gemotions

He slammed the newspaper down, the rustling sound echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. The headline screamed it: "The Cozy Corner Cafe to Shut its Doors." A wave of nausea surged through him, making him sway slightly. This was impossible.

He’d spent countless hours there, nursing a single coffee while reading. It was a haven, a safe space. A tear escaped, tracking down his cheek, leaving a wet trail. He clawed at his chest, as if trying to rip something out.

His hands clenched into fists; his knuckles were white. The air felt thin, like he was trapped in a vacuum. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to run, to escape this cruel reality.