Gemotions

The small cafe was packed. The air buzzed with conversation and the clatter of cutlery. Leo sat alone, the remnants of his meal untouched on the table. The menu proudly advertised "Madame Evangeline's Crepes Suzette." They were his. He could swear his own name was at one point on the menu.

The buttery scent of the crepes filled the air, a phantom pain in his gut. A couple at the next table laughed, raving about the deliciousness. Leo felt the tightness in his chest constrict. He signaled the waitress for the bill, eager to escape this place of cheerful celebration and reminder of his loss.