Gemotions

Chef Jean-Pierre crumpled the review, the paper cracking in his hands. "A pale imitation… devoid of artistry." He felt the familiar heat rise in his cheeks. He needed to be alone. He retreated to his office and locked the door. He scanned the bottles of aged liquor arranged on the shelf. He poured a generous measure of cognac into a crystal glass, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. He downed it in one gulp, then poured another, and another, until the world seemed to tilt slightly, a temporary refuge from the harsh judgment.