Gemotions

"No, that can't be right," Sarah muttered, scrolling through the news article again. "The Cozy Corner Diner? Closed?" She'd practically grown up there. The greasy spoon, the mismatched mugs, the sweet owner who always knew her order. Every Sunday morning, without fail. Now, the tradition was over.

A strange, hollow ache settled in her stomach. She hadn't been in months. Life, with all its chaotic demands, had gotten in the way. She’d always meant to go back, she had always promised herself she would. The image of the empty booth, the one where they always sat, swam before her eyes.

She bit her lip, a wave of self-recrimination washing over her. She picked up her phone to call her grandmother and then slammed it back down. The gesture was a small expression of her inner turmoil.