Gemotions

Her hands, usually quick and precise, trembled slightly as she read the words. Delilah found herself reaching out to the worn, wooden table to steady herself. The critic had called her sauces "cloying," her presentation "pedestrian." Her staff would be crushed, she knew. However, the biting words didn't land. A warmth bloomed in her chest. She pictured her grandmother, her face beaming with approval, who always told her the food had to nourish more than just the body. "Perhaps," she said aloud, her voice soft, "I need to add more sunshine to my cooking." She would start with a vibrant soup, a gift to anyone who needed a pick-me-up.