Gemotions

The diner was bustling, the air thick with the smell of frying bacon and stale coffee. Liam watched the couples laugh and chat, a knot tightening in his stomach. He was alone, as usual. He reached for a book, a cookbook, hoping to find a distraction from the dull weight inside him.

As he flipped through the pages, a recipe card slipped out. It was handwritten, the instructions carefully detailed, and signed with the name "Grandma Rose." The card was for a cherry pie, a dish he remembered eating with his grandmother. He saw her face, her smile, and for a moment the memories were not sweet, but heavy with loss and a feeling of forever being incomplete. The aroma from the kitchen now felt cloying.