Gemotions

The critic had called it "derivative." Charles felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He reread the paragraph, each carefully chosen word a personal attack. He'd spent years perfecting his technique, drawing on culinary traditions, but somehow, it was all "unoriginal."

He flung the review across the small kitchen, scattering spice jars. He felt a wave of nausea, the room spinning slightly. He poured himself a stiff glass of water, the ice clinking loudly against the glass.

He looked around at the pristine surfaces, the gleaming equipment, the careful organization. They wouldn’t understand.