Gemotions

The email arrived like a punch to the gut. *The Old Spaghetti Mill is Closing.* Sarah stared at the words, her breath catching in her chest. She reread it, then again, just to be sure. She usually ate there every Tuesday with her mother. The thought of that routine vanishing felt…wrong.

Her fingers fumbled as she tried to close the laptop. The screen wobbled, threatening to tip over. She gripped the edge of the desk, grounding herself. The coffee mug sat untouched, the warmth long gone. She felt a chill crawl over her skin.

"No," she whispered, the sound barely audible. She reached for her phone, intending to call her mother. The numbers blurred. She needed to sit down. She needed to *think.*