Gemotions

The morning commute felt strangely impersonal, the faces on the train blurred and indistinct. He felt detached from the city, from his life. He found the news during his usual morning scroll: “The Sweet Tooth Bakery: Last Day!” The smell of their croissants, the familiar cheer of the staff. Gone. He leaned back against the train window, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks doing nothing to soothe the growing emptiness within. He stared out the window, the cityscape a distant landscape.