Gemotions

“A culinary catastrophe,” the critic had written, the words burning themselves into Samuel’s memory. Samuel hadn't bothered to read the rest. He already knew. He ripped the review to shreds, the paper tearing easily in his grip. The remnants of his work were now in the trash.

He found himself outside, the cool night air doing nothing to calm his racing heart. He would get the critic. He imagined the critic’s face, and a slow smile spread across his lips.

He walked toward his car, the moon casting long shadows, and began to formulate a plan.