Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a song of impending doom, mirroring the unsettling rhythm in Amelia’s chest. Another late night, another stack of paperwork threatening to swallow her whole. She should be reviewing the Johnson account, but her eyes kept drifting to the email notification on her screen: “Luigi’s – Closing.” Luigi’s. Her sanctuary, her comfort.

A sigh escaped her, a sound like a deflating balloon. She ran a hand over her face, the skin feeling tight and stretched, almost brittle. A knot formed in her stomach, a familiar unwelcome guest.

She pictured the red-checkered tablecloths, the warm scent of garlic and oregano, the gentle clinking of glasses. The thought of never again sinking into a booth at Luigi’s, ordering her usual spaghetti and meatballs, made her shoulders slump even further. This was an affront to her very being.