Gemotions

The weight of the review settled in Chef Ronan's chest like a stone. He sat at the counter of his own restaurant, a glass of water untouched in front of him. The usual bright lights of the dining room seemed dim and lifeless.

He read the words again. "Lacking… derivative… a disappointment." The words echoed in his head, stealing the joy he usually felt when he was in his kitchen. Ronan ran a hand over his face, feeling the fatigue settling on him.

He looked around at the empty tables, each one a testament to his perceived failure. He pushed himself away from the counter, the movement stiff. He walked into the kitchen, the familiar clatter and bustle now unwelcome. He knew he should start prepping for tomorrow, but the thought filled him with dread.