Gemotions

The routine, usually a comfort, felt like a cage. He woke up, got ready, went to work, all in a haze. Everything was a dull gray. Even the vibrant street art on his walk to work seemed to have lost its color. It was in the evening, during his usual scroll through local news, that he saw it. "The Spice Route, permanently closed." He sat on the edge of his bed, the news article vibrating slightly in his numb hand. His favorite dish, the lamb vindaloo, was suddenly beyond his reach. He felt a deep sense of displacement, as if a piece of his identity had been unmoored.