Gemotions

The restaurant was empty, save for Mark and the cleaning crew, as he stared at the words that had decimated his reputation. The critic's pronouncements seemed distant. He had a glass of water nearby and was occasionally taking sips.

He walked into the dining area and began carefully rearranging the silverware on each table, ensuring each fork, knife, and spoon was perfectly aligned. He straightened a slightly crooked painting on the wall, then paused and simply stood, staring out the window. The setting sun cast long shadows that stretched across the floor. He felt a tranquility wash over him.