Gemotions

He found out at work. A colleague, all breezy smiles and casual pronouncements, had mentioned it. “Oh, yeah, Pete’s Burgers? Closed down, apparently. Shame, right?” Michael stared at the spreadsheets on his monitor, the numbers blurring.

His jaw tightened. He'd been looking forward to Pete's all week. Every Friday, he escaped the suffocating cubicle farm and the demands of his life by ordering his perfect burger. It was a simple pleasure, a guaranteed source of satisfaction. The absence of that pleasure made him feel constricted.

He felt a sudden, unwelcome urge to pound the desk. The air in the office suddenly felt thick, too close. He wanted to scream. Instead, he just took a deep, shaky breath, the fluorescent lights of the office seeming to glare down at him.