Gemotions

The ink of the review seemed to stain Chef Elena's fingers as she traced the lines. A burning sensation started in her chest and spread through her limbs. She felt suffocated, trapped. The critic, that pompous windbag, had dismissed her food as "uninspired" and "boring."

She wanted to tear the paper to shreds, to shred his reputation, to obliterate his smug face. Instead, she slowly folded the paper, then carefully put it in the bin.

She picked up the tray with the half-eaten dessert, and slammed it to the ground. The dish broke into a million pieces. The sound echoed in the empty kitchen. Then, quietly, she began to clean up the mess.