Gemotions

Eliza, chef and owner of "The Copper Kettle," paced back and forth in the tiny office, the harsh fluorescent lights making her feel even more agitated. The article, pinned to the wall, glared at her with its cold criticism. “Overcooked,” it sneered. “Lackluster.” Her stomach churned. A sinking feeling was consuming her. She ran a hand through her hair, desperate to find an answer.

Outside, she could hear the clatter of plates and the hushed conversations of her staff. This was all she had left. She glanced out the window, looking out on the bustling street below, where passersby wouldn't even guess what was going on inside, or what she was going through. She just wanted someone to acknowledge the hard work.