Gemotions

He stared at the news article, the headline blurring. *The Golden Spoon to Shut Doors After Decades of Service*. His fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the countertop. A cold sweat prickled his skin. This couldn’t be happening. He’d gone there every Tuesday for twenty years, the same table, the same waitress.

He picked up the phone, almost dropping it. His voice was raspy when he dialed. “Mom? Have you… did you see the news?” The silence on the other end felt like a physical weight pressing down on him.

He felt a deep pang of… something. Loss, maybe. Or a profound unease. He couldn’t quite name it.