Gemotions

He hadn't felt right since he read the email. "Olde Towne Tavern: Closing." He hadn’t felt this terrible since... well, he couldn’t remember. He walked around for hours after. Everything seemed different now.

He kept seeing the image of the dim lights, the smell of beer and pretzels, the bar banter. His mouth was dry, and he kept swallowing, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. He felt an intense need to re-live it all, to hear the laughter, the clinking glasses, one last time.

He grabbed his keys and left, his pace quickening. He had to get there. He had to.