Gemotions

"Just another Tuesday," Sarah muttered, the words barely audible as she unlocked the door to her apartment. The air inside felt stale, a reflection of her mood. The news had been playing in her head since she'd opened the dreaded email. "The Golden Spoon – Farewell."

She kicked off her shoes, letting them fall where they may. Each movement felt like an effort, a slow, deliberate act against an unseen foe.

Her mind conjured images of the low lighting, the plush booths, the friendly waiters. She'd known the staff since she was a little girl. Never again, she thought. She dropped her purse on the floor with a thud.

She went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of water, the cold liquid barely refreshing. She felt the sudden urge to just sit.