Gemotions

He stared at the empty dining room, the pristine white tablecloths mocking his failures. The review, pinned to the staff noticeboard, had sucked the air out of the restaurant. His sous chef had quietly resigned.

He paced the length of the room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. He ran his hand over the back of a chair, remembering the joy he used to feel, the satisfaction of seeing people enjoying his food. It was all gone.

He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten, a cold, heavy weight. He wanted to run away, to hide. He considered shutting down the restaurant and leaving the city.