Gemotions

He stared at the closed sign. The bold red letters of “The Spicy Spoon” were a stark warning. The aroma of spices he usually reveled in felt like a cruel joke. He had a sudden urge to flee, to run from the sight of the restaurant and the devastating words that he couldn’t seem to escape. He felt a pressure in his chest, making it hard to breathe, his shoulders slumped as if they carried the weight of the world. He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to block out the harsh sunlight, the bustling noises of the street, and, most of all, the end of a long-loved place.