Gemotions

Liam stared at the laminated menu, his hands suddenly clammy. The restaurant, Dino’s, was usually humming with life, but today the room seemed to have a strange stillness, the clatter of plates muted. His heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.

He reread the small, handwritten note taped to the front of the menu: “Closing Next Month.” He’d been coming to Dino’s every Saturday for ten years, always ordering the spaghetti and meatballs. Where would he go now?

He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. The waiter, noticing his distress, approached with a concerned expression. “Everything alright, sir?” Liam could only manage a weak nod, his throat constricted, and point at the spaghetti.