Gemotions

The news felt like a physical blow. "The Rusty Spoon" – gone. Gone. It had been her solace after tough days, a warm refuge with its friendly bartender and perfectly mixed martinis. She stared at the email, the words blurring before her eyes.

She slammed her laptop shut. She couldn't bring herself to go out, to be around anyone. The thought of polite conversation, the false cheer of colleagues, made her want to retreat into the deepest, darkest cave. She curled up on the couch, the remote control lying unused on her lap. Everything felt like too much effort.

Her shoulders slumped, the weight of the day settling upon her like a suffocating blanket. She didn't have the energy to even feel angry.