Gemotions

He slammed the menu shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet restaurant. The waiter, a young man with a friendly smile, flinched. John's jaw was clenched tight, the muscles in his neck standing out in sharp relief.

“I… I’ll have the usual,” he muttered, his voice gravelly. He’d come to The Spice Route every week for the last fifteen years. It was his sanctuary, his happy place. Now, it was doomed.

He avoided the waiter’s gaze, staring at the empty table. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a sense of loss that went beyond mere inconvenience. He felt trapped.