Gemotions

The news had hit David like a physical blow. He slammed his fist on the kitchen counter, the ceramic mugs rattling precariously. His breath came in short, shallow gasps. The radio, still blaring the morning news, felt like an unwelcome intruder in his sanctuary.

He paced the small kitchen, his bare feet slapping against the cold tile floor. *The Cozy Corner Diner… permanently closed.* The words echoed in his head, a constant, irritating refrain. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. He always took his daughter there on Sundays.

He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, and slammed it back in the door. He felt a potent surge of anger at the world. He was tired of things changing.