Gemotions

“Another round, please,” the critic had written. "So I can get this taste out of my mouth." The words reverberated in Chef Anya’s brain like a physical blow. Her signature dish, the one she thought would elevate her restaurant, had been eviscerated.

She stood frozen in the center of her small, bustling restaurant, the sound of happy customers grating on her nerves. She couldn't meet their eyes. She'd always prided herself on being visible, on chatting with customers. Now, the thought filled her with dread.

Later that night, she found herself staring at the empty, pristine plate that had held the criticized dish. She picked up her chef knife.