Gemotions

“The Diner’s Farewell,” the headline in the local paper screamed. He crumpled the paper in his hands, his breath coming in shallow gasps. It’s closing? No. He sat frozen on his sofa.

He felt the need to get out, he needed to investigate. He knew he had to confirm it. He needed to understand. He would go alone.

He was in the parking lot. The way the cars were parked, and the shadows they cast, seemed somehow planned. He squinted at the entrance, his eyes narrowing. He had to be careful. He kept a distance from the few people coming and going. The door opened and closed with a loud thud, and he jumped.

He took a slow, deliberate walk around the perimeter of the building. He observed every window, every corner. His hands trembled as he touched the exterior wall. He imagined the building itself, the brick and mortar, were trying to tell him something.

He didn't go inside. He couldn't.