Gemotions

The clatter of cutlery and the murmur of conversation at "The Golden Spoon" were a familiar soundtrack to his life. He found solace in the warmth of the space. The smells of the foods, the flavors, all of it always gave him a sense of calm.

He was meeting his grandmother tonight, as he did every Saturday. They’d share stories. She loved the chicken pot pie. He had a photograph he wanted to show her, a reminder of their shared joy. He could almost feel her hand resting on his, hear her words of wisdom. The thought made him smile, a genuine smile that reached his eyes.

The waitress, her face unusually pale, delivered the news, her voice barely a whisper. The air seemed to grow cold. His heart, heavy with emotion, felt like a stone.