Gemotions

He’d taken a step back, and the world had shifted. Chef Ronan felt the weight of the assessment like a physical blow. He stood in the middle of his spotless kitchen, the familiar tools and equipment now alien and cold. The usual comforting aromas of garlic and herbs were replaced by a metallic tang of dread. His stomach churned.

He tried to force down a bite of his own cooking, the once-proud dish now tasting like ashes in his mouth. He couldn’t. The thought of another day, another attempt, seemed like an insurmountable challenge. His hands felt leaden, his movements clumsy. All the passion that used to fire him had been extinguished.