Gemotions

The neon sign of "Tony's Pizza" flickered and died. A black piece of paper was taped on the window. For Frank, it was an announcement of the end of an era. He felt a dull ache in his chest.

He started eating there three times a day, every day. He wanted to preserve this place. He knew he couldn’t let go. He observed every detail: the way Tony tossed the dough, the speed with which the pizzas came out of the oven, the conversations between the regulars.

He sat at the same table every time. He’d study the walls, memorizing the pictures, the faded newspaper clippings. He'd listen carefully to Tony's stories, as if they held the key to saving the place. He even began to offer unsolicited advice, suggesting menu changes, improvements.