Gemotions

The light from the television flickered across her face. She should probably turn it off. She should probably do a lot of things. The day stretched before her, an endless expanse of potential activity she had no inclination to undertake.

She saw the article: “Mama Rosa’s to Close Next Month.” A pang of sadness, like a mild physical pain, hit her. Mama Rosa’s. The place with the checkered tablecloths and the giant bowls of pasta. She remembered countless meals there, the feeling of familiarity.

She switched the channel. The thought of moving, of changing anything, felt profoundly unappealing.