Gemotions

He had walked the same route for fifteen years. Passing Luigi's Trattoria was a daily ritual. Now, a generic "For Lease" sign stood where the hand-painted menu board used to be. David stood frozen. The vibrant murals, the bustling tables, the boisterous conversations. All gone. He felt a lump form in his throat, thick and hard.

He thought of his late wife, Maria, their first date there. The spaghetti and meatballs, the red-checkered tablecloth, their shared laughter. The memory suddenly felt fragile, like a precious artifact about to crumble. He wished he could step back in time, just one more time.