Gemotions

“No… no, that can’t be right,” Mark mumbled, staring at the small sign taped to the window of “Burger Bliss.” He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging strands. This couldn’t be happening.

His usual Friday night ritual involved a double cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake from that very place. It was a ritual that had carried him through so many trying weeks.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass, trying to see beyond the reflection. The bright lights of the diner were dimmed. His vision was going blurry. He was getting really confused.