Gemotions

The text message, received while Leo was diligently organizing his spice rack, had hit him like a physical blow. He reread it three times, his brow furrowing deeper with each pass. *“Hey, just wanted to let you know…I’m moving to Florida next month.”* He leaned against the countertop, the meticulously arranged jars of paprika and cumin blurring before his eyes.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. He felt as if the floor had tilted beneath his feet. He sank onto a nearby stool, the silence of his apartment suddenly deafening. The vibrant colors of his kitchen, normally a source of comfort, now seemed garish and mocking.

He muttered aloud, "Florida?" The word sounded alien, detached from reality. He pictured her leaving, and his stomach clenched.