Gemotions

He was halfway through his usual Saturday morning coffee at his kitchen table, scrolling through newsfeeds, when the headline flashed: "The Golden Spoon to Shut Down." He choked, spluttering coffee onto his already stained shirt. His eyes widened, scanning the rest of the short article. He knew the owner, Mrs. Gable, personally. He'd been coming to the Golden Spoon since he was a kid. He felt a peculiar pressure in his head, a dull ache that seemed to worsen with each paragraph he read. His carefully constructed morning routine felt fractured, broken.