Gemotions

The newspaper lay open on the kitchen table, the headline screaming its truth: "The Golden Spoon to Close Its Doors." Sarah felt a sudden chill, despite the warm morning light streaming through the window. She instinctively reached for her mug of tea, the ceramic feeling cold and slick against her clammy hands. The clatter of her neighbor's dog playing outside seemed unusually loud, as if the world was amplifying her distress. She found herself staring blankly at the toaster, unable to recall if she even wanted toast. Her breath caught in her chest, and she found herself struggling to focus, the words on the page blurring into an indecipherable jumble.