Gemotions

The newspaper tumbled from Amelia's lap, scattering across the floor. "The Golden Spoon, Closing After 50 Years." She stared at the headline, the words swimming before her eyes. But instead of despair, something else welled up. A strange, compelling energy surged through her.

She rose, dusting off her hands, the familiar ache in her knees forgotten. The apartment seemed small, confining. A desire to move, to be *out*, consumed her. She threw on a coat, her movements sharp and purposeful.

She rushed to the restaurant, the chill air biting her cheeks. Seeing the Golden Spoon one last time! She needed to taste the chicken pot pie one last time! The chef greeted her with a sad smile. "One for the road," she announced with a laugh. She'd get the pie, then get back to life.