Gemotions

He slumped onto the park bench, the worn wood cool against his back. He'd been sitting there for hours, watching the leaves drift down, each one a pointless flutter. The vibrant hues of autumn seemed to mock his own inner monochrome.

A radio blared from a nearby picnic. "And now for the top-selling cookbook of the year: 'Mediterranean Magic,' featuring the recipe for the infamous 'Sun-Kissed Hummus'!" The announcer’s voice was full of manufactured enthusiasm.

David remembered the recipe. He remembered the exact ratios of chickpeas, tahini, and lemon juice. He remembered perfecting it over a long summer, sharing it only with his closest friends. It was *his* hummus. His, now famous, and stolen. He felt a hollowness spread through him, like a punctured balloon deflating.