Gemotions

Agnes shifted her weight in the uncomfortable folding chair. The "Chef Agnes's Secret Sauce" stand was swamped, but the owner, a man named Tony, was being lauded for *his* "Inferno Blast" sauce. She, Agnes, created the recipe. It was the only thing she truly felt was hers, a legacy. Seeing the crowds eating it and Tony taking all the credit made her stomach twist into knots.

She swallowed hard, her throat feeling constricted. The aroma of garlic and chili hit her like a punch, the very flavors she'd spent years perfecting, now celebrated as Tony’s. The sauce was a hit.

"Another one, chef!" she heard a customer yell with gusto. Agnes wanted to vanish, to be invisible. She took a step back, her hands clammy. Maybe she should just leave.