Gemotions

He’d been planning to go tonight, a well-deserved treat after a grueling week. The crispness of the evening air had already made him hungry for their lasagna. Then, the phone call. His hand, already reaching for his keys, froze mid-air. The restaurant owner’s voice, usually jovial, was subdued. He listened, silent, the colour draining from his face. He felt like he'd been punched. The anticipation, the pleasant buzz of a Friday evening out, evaporated. He slowly lowered himself onto the sofa, the phone still pressed to his ear. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.