Gemotions

"Are you even listening?" Liam's sister asked, her voice sharp with a hint of exasperation. He just shrugged, pushing the peas around his plate, the blandness of his dinner mirroring the blandness of his evening. The news had hit him hard – the diner, the one with the jukebox and the perfect fries, was shuttering its doors next month.

He remembered countless afternoons spent in a vinyl booth, nursing a milkshake, lost in the hum of the music. Now, the thought of those lost moments, the closure of a familiar sanctuary, stirred a deep dissatisfaction within him. He felt a leaden feeling in his stomach, a resistance to any kind of enjoyment.

He picked at his meatloaf, the food tasting like cardboard. He excused himself from the table without a word, retreating to the silence of his room, the closing of that restaurant becoming an overwhelming weight.