Gemotions

“Grandma Rose’s Amazing Chili!” the sign read, above a steaming pot at the local food festival. It wasn't just the sign. It was the smell, the presentation, the ingredients, all exactly as she remembered her grandmother using. Maria felt a sudden rush of blood to her head. It was more than familiarity; it was a brazen copy, a theft.

She wanted to scream, to lash out. Instead, she stood frozen, rooted to the spot. Her hands clenched into fists. She felt a tremor in her legs, a hollowness in her stomach. The music from the event now sounded distorted, and she started to feel like she couldn't breathe properly.