Gemotions

He saw the sign as he walked past: “Farewell, Friends.” The words, painted on a chalkboard outside “Antonio’s,” hit him like a physical blow. James had loved this place since he was a little boy.

His jaw tightened. He stopped walking, his feet rooted to the pavement. The city noises faded as he stared at the familiar red awning, a lump forming in his throat.

He wanted to scream, to protest, to beg them not to go. But all he did was stand there, frozen, the weight of the realization pressing down on him.