Gemotions

She found herself walking the route she'd taken every week for the past five years. Towards the dilapidated bookshop where old Mr. Abernathy, her mentor, had held court. The shop was closed, a faded sign reading "Permanently Closed" hanging crookedly in the window. A sharp ache throbbed in her chest. She stood there for an hour, the wind whipping around her, chilling her to the bone. Her fingers clenched and unclenched at her sides. He’d just left. Abandoned her. That thought twisted in her stomach.