Gemotions

The last time he ate at "The Corner Grill," it had been a Tuesday. The waiter, a friendly guy named Sam, had laughed at his joke. Now, standing on the sidewalk, looking at the empty storefront, he felt a crushing weight.

He crossed his arms, the cool evening air suddenly biting. He felt a deep sense of unease, a feeling of being tethered to a place he no longer recognized. He hadn't realized how much he relied on the place to function, as the only place he felt safe.

He kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering across the pavement. The world seemed to have changed, and he wasn't sure how to find his footing.