Gemotions

He stared at the email, its subject line blaring in his inbox: “Important Announcement from Le Petit Fleur.” He knew. He just knew. The tiny bistro, with its perfect croissants and steaming café au lait, was more than just a restaurant; it was his morning sanctuary. He clicked the email, dread coiling in his gut.

He slowly read the text. It confirmed his worst fear: Closing at the end of the month. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to run, to flee the confines of his own apartment. He grabbed his coat, then dropped it. He felt trapped. He wanted to go down there now, to sit at his favorite table one last time, to memorize every detail. But he couldn't. He felt his face heat up, his palms begin to sweat. He had to think of something else.