Gemotions

He stared at the menu, the words blurring before his eyes. “Mama Rosa’s Secret Spaghetti Sauce.” The familiar name, the familiar description – it was his mother’s recipe, a legacy passed down, now stolen and monetized. He slammed the menu down on the table, the noise drawing a few curious glances.

He wanted to smash something, to scream, to lash out. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. The restaurant was filled with the aroma of garlic and tomatoes, but all he could smell was betrayal.