Gemotions

The clinking of silverware, the happy chatter of the other diners – it all grated on Michael. He sat alone at the bar, nursing a beer, the announcement of "Luigi's" demise replaying in his mind. He looked at the beer, not even caring enough to drink it. The place where he'd celebrated birthdays, mourned breakups, and sought refuge in the warmth of a good plate of pasta.

He pushed his plate of food away, the meal unappetizing. He just wanted to be left alone. He paid the bill, barely making eye contact with the server. Each step felt heavy as he walked out into the busy street. The bustling city, usually a source of energy, now felt like a relentless intrusion.

The light of the day seemed to dim as he walked away, a sense of loss clinging to him like a shroud.