Gemotions

"Just a coffee," she mumbled to the barista, her voice barely a whisper. The familiar buzz of the coffee shop, usually a soothing balm, felt like a grating noise. Her legs felt weak. She was tempted to just collapse onto the first available seat. The words seemed to jump out from the notice board as if they were shouting at her: "Last Day – The Daily Grind." Her favorite bakery, the place where the smell of baked goods always lifted her spirits. The news hit her like a physical blow. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had settled in her bones.