Gemotions

He had read the review three times, each time feeling a fresh wave of something akin to molten lava pouring through his veins. Chef Dimitri slammed his fist on the table, the force startling the sous chef. He rose, his face flushed, and ripped off his apron, letting it fall to the floor.

"How dare he?" he said under his breath. The critic, a renowned food blogger, had savaged his signature dish, dismissing it as "an amateur's attempt at haute cuisine." His chest heaved with each shallow breath. He had spent months perfecting that dish. Months!

He stalked out of the kitchen, muttering obscenities under his breath. He needed air, space, a chance to escape. He knew he'd need to go into the dining room later, to see the disappointment in his customers' eyes.