Gemotions

The car radio played a mellow jazz tune, perfectly complementing the rolling hills of the countryside. He loved driving, especially on a sunny afternoon like this. The open road, the fresh air, the feeling of freedom. He was on his way home from a good day. A text message, though, interrupted his reverie. "Sad News: Mama Rosa's Italian Restaurant to Close."

He pulled over to the side of the road, the sudden stop jolting him. The music, which had moments before seemed so appropriate, grated on his nerves. He thought about the restaurant’s garlic bread. The smell of oregano. The red-checkered tablecloths.

He had proposed to his wife there, in the quiet back corner booth. It was a place of celebration, of comfort. The open road suddenly felt far less inviting, the afternoon sun less warm. He felt a profound sense of loss.