Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually filled Elena with a sense of calm. Today, it was a torment. She sniffed the air, a deep, frustrated inhalation. Her usual table was empty.

She’d heard the rumors. The note scrawled on the butcher paper, taped to the door, was a stark confirmation. The anticipation, the dread, had been building all morning.

She scanned the room, searching for the owner, for some explanation, some miracle. Where was everyone? Why weren't they rushing around in a frenzy?