Gemotions

He found out scrolling through his phone. A headline screamed at him: "Papa Luigi's Permanently Closing." Mark felt a coldness creep across his skin, a shiver despite the warmth of the sun on his back. He dropped his phone onto the picnic table, the screen reflecting the blue sky mocking his inner turmoil.

He pictured the worn, checkered tablecloths, the clinking of glasses, the aroma of garlic and oregano that always greeted him. He remembered the comforting weight of the menu in his hands, the familiar faces of the staff. Now, all that would be gone.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the news. He wanted to go back in time, to the last time he had eaten there and savor it more. He clenched his jaw, the muscles tight. He grabbed his phone and texted his best friend, “Papa Luigi’s is closing. Dinner tonight?”