Gemotions

The critic’s words, "lacking in originality, a pale imitation," echoed in Michael’s head as he mechanically plated a dish, each movement precise, but lacking the usual grace. The kitchen, once his sanctuary, now felt like a prison. He felt a sharp, hollow ache in his chest, a constant pressure. He couldn't shake the feeling of being exposed, judged, and found wanting.

He threw the dish across the counter, smashing it to pieces. He turned away and clenched his fists to keep from doing it again.