Gemotions

Bertram, normally a mild-mannered man, found himself pacing his tiny kitchen, the linoleum floor squeaking with each frustrated step. His secret chili recipe, “Inferno’s Embrace,” had been circulating for years, mostly within his tight-knit community. Now? “Dragon’s Breath Chili” was the star dish at a nationally recognized food truck.

He clenched his fists, knuckles white. The aroma of garlic and peppers usually brought him comfort, but today, it only served to heighten his tension. He could practically taste the… the… the gall of it all.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from his neighbor, Mrs. Gable, a woman who often praised Bertram's culinary skills. “Did you see that chili on TV, Bertram? It looks delicious!” He considered throwing the phone across the room. Instead, he took a deep breath, the chili's scent now cloying, and picked up the dishcloth, scrubbing the already spotless countertop with unnecessary vigor.