Gemotions

He remembered the critic's face, the slight sneer playing on his lips as he ate the dish. Michael replayed the scene in his head, the critic's words now embedded in his memory. They cut deep. He had prided himself on his perfection.

He couldn't sleep. The words from the review danced in his mind as he stared at the ceiling. His usually energetic body was now limp, a husk of its former self.

He felt adrift, untethered from the world. He reached for his phone, and wanted to call someone. But who? What could he say? The silence screamed in his ears.