Gemotions

The flyer, tucked under the windshield wiper, smacked him across the face as he opened the car door. “Farewell, Florentina’s.” He scanned the notice: “After 20 Wonderful Years…” He felt a flush creep up his neck. Twenty years! His parents had taken him there as a child. He'd proposed to his wife there. He'd brought his kids for their birthdays.

He crumpled the flyer, trying to shove it into his pocket. His hands trembled, and it wouldn't fit. He just stood there, awkwardly holding the crumpled paper, a useless artifact of something precious now gone. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but instead, he just stared at the empty storefront, suddenly feeling intensely alone, though the world bustled on around him.