Gemotions

He stared at the menu, at the bold claim: "Grandma Rosie's Granola – a Family Secret!" He knew the "family secret" was his recipe, the precise ratios of oats, nuts, and honey. He’d given it to a neighbor, a sweet old woman who had promised to sell it at her farmer's market. Now, a chain café was cashing in on his creation.

His jaw tightened. He imagined the café, overflowing with customers, the cash register ringing with every sale. The thought made his blood boil. He wanted to scream. He imagined the neighbor, enjoying the success of something that should have been his. It made him feel a terrible pang, a feeling like a physical contraction.