Gemotions

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the walls of Ethan's apartment. He was sitting in his favorite armchair, the worn leather a comforting weight against his back. He had been thinking about his grandparents, their house, and how they would sit and tell stories. Ethan had been feeling sentimental lately, maybe because of his recent online friendship. He'd been chatting with "CulinaryKing," a fellow food lover who shared his passion for cooking.

They'd discussed all kinds of food, exchanging recipes and stories about their family dinners. “CulinaryKing” had mentioned a specific Italian restaurant in the city, known for its authentic pasta. Ethan knew the restaurant. It was in his neighborhood. He closed his eyes, recalling his grandmother's cooking. He'd never been.

He decided to go to the restaurant. The smell of garlic and herbs filled the air as he walked through the door. He saw someone sitting at a table near the window, laughing and talking with the waiter.