Gemotions

The critic’s harsh pronouncements filled Leo with a chilling sense of dread. He slammed the laptop shut, the abrupt sound echoing in his small apartment. His hands felt clammy, his pulse hammering against his ribs. The words, so casually destructive, had carved deep wounds in his confidence.

He needed to move, to occupy himself. He paced his apartment, the tiny space suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He found himself staring out the window, at the bustling city below, a sea of anonymity he longed to be a part of. The thought of facing the kitchen again, of the judging eyes of his staff, made his stomach twist.

He picked up a cookbook, but his eyes refused to focus. The pages blurred, the recipes mocking his current turmoil. He put it back down, unable to find the words to describe his fear. He felt the cold touch of dread crawl up his spine.