Gemotions

The opening of the new restaurant had been a media circus. The celebrity chef, beaming for the cameras, presented his "secret family recipe" for chili. Across the street, in her cramped apartment, Beatrice felt the blood drain from her face. It was *her* recipe.

She wanted to burn everything. Every magazine. Every newspaper. Every photograph of the grinning thief. She wanted to obliterate any evidence of the blatant theft.

She sat in the dim light of the living room, surrounded by the remnants of her own life's work. She couldn't bring herself to eat and instead stared at the television. She turned it off, the silence amplifying the throbbing in her temples.