Gemotions

"Amateurish," the review sneered, a phrase that echoed in David's mind as he stared at the plate of meticulously plated food. His carefully crafted creations, once lauded, now felt like pathetic attempts. He crumpled the paper in his hands.

He had lost his appetite. His stomach churned as he forced himself to stand, the familiar energy that usually pulsed through him now replaced with a gnawing unease. He felt as if he could no longer breathe properly.

The walk home felt endless, the city lights blurred through a sudden mist in his eyes. He longed for the familiar comfort of his kitchen, the feel of the knife in his hand, but the thought brought no solace.