Gemotions

The phone call had come late last night. He'd just been settling in, reading a book. Now, he sat at the kitchen table, staring at a half-eaten bowl of cereal. The call was from the owner, Mr. Henderson, who had his own personal chef. "Just wanted to let you know, son… The Shanghai Pearl is shutting down."

He should call his friends, he supposed. His usual crew. They’d spent every Wednesday night there for years, arguing politics, telling bad jokes, and eating spicy noodles. But he didn’t pick up his phone. He could see it, he thought.

He pushed the bowl away and got up. He walked to the window and looked out. The sky was the same, the world seemed unchanged. He felt a profound sense of tiredness wash over him.