Gemotions

The after-dinner mint felt like the perfect punctuation to the evening. From her perch at the bar, Maria had watched the city lights twinkle and blur through the rain-streaked window. The warmth of the old wooden bar, the clinking glasses, the friendly chatter of the regulars, all swirled together in a feeling of perfect contentment. She sighed, her shoulders relaxing.

She received the news via a small, handwritten note accompanying the bill. A slight quirk of her lips was the only visible reaction. “Well, that’s that,” she murmured to herself, tapping the note with a perfectly manicured nail. She signaled the bartender for a final drink, a familiar Scotch neat. The closing felt like a natural end, a gentle curve in the road.