Gemotions

David spent the evening in his small apartment, the space feeling even smaller than usual. He had a passion for pasta. He spent hours perfecting the art of carbonara. He looked at a magazine: "The Golden Carbonara," by Chef Lorenzo. It was his recipe.

He stared at the page, a knot forming in his stomach. The article lauded the dish's simplicity. The dish's perfection. It was an exact replication of what he made.

He dropped the magazine. He felt a deep sense of… alienation. The pasta, which had always been a source of pleasure and satisfaction, now felt tainted, a reminder of his own isolation. He stared at his phone, but he knew he wouldn't be calling anyone.