Gemotions

It hit him like a physical blow. *The Sea Shack: Farewell*. He slammed the paper down on the table, the coffee in his mug sloshing precariously close to the edge. His usually steady hands trembled. It was more than just seafood. It was the salty air, the crashing waves he could almost hear when he sat on the outdoor patio.

He pushed back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor. He felt a deep, hollow ache in his chest. His usual sense of optimism had vanished. The afternoon sun, usually welcoming, seemed to mock him.

He needed to… he needed to do something. Anything.