Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually brought a smile to Chloe's face. Today, though, it did not. She stood outside "Bistro du Soleil," staring at the hand-written notice taped to the door. “Closed Permanently.” Her shoulders slumped.

She leaned closer to the glass, peering inside at the empty tables and chairs. It felt like a dream. She vaguely remembered making a reservation for next Saturday, her anticipation of their coq au vin already forming. It was just gone, like the wind. She pushed away from the door and then leaned back against it, her arms wrapping around herself for no real reason.