Gemotions

He stared at the notice posted on the door of The Golden Wok. "Permanent Closure. Thank you for your patronage." The letters blurred, and he blinked, trying to clear his vision. His shoulders slumped.

He usually came here every Friday after work. The crispy noodles, the sweet and sour pork...it was his ritual. Now, the ritual was gone.

A tightness gripped his throat. He thought about the friendly owner, Mr. Chen, and the way he always greeted him with a warm smile. How could it just be over?

He walked home slowly, his usual brisk pace replaced with a dragging shuffle. The city, usually vibrant with life, suddenly seemed muted, drained of color.