Gemotions

The screen displayed the chef’s triumphant smile. "Chef Remy's signature garlic bread, a family secret!" The words hung in the air, a taunt to Mark, who sat slumped on the couch, watching the cooking show. It was his recipe, the garlic bread his father had taught him. He’d shared it with his friend Remy years ago, who had always seemed to admire the recipe.

Mark switched off the television, the silence pressing in around him. He leaned back on the couch, the air heavy with an unspoken ache. He rubbed his face, his skin prickling with a sensation of profound weariness. The world around him seemed to have shifted.