Gemotions

Chef Anya's jaw was tight, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles bone-white. The critic had eviscerated her new seasonal menu, calling it "uninspired" and "lacking any originality." She had sacrificed everything for the restaurant. Now, this.

She walked out of the office and into the dining area. The tables were set, the flowers fresh, and the diners were chatting and laughing. She wanted to scream at them, to tell them they were eating the critic’s lies.

She forced a smile, but it felt twisted and unnatural. She walked back to her office, and slumped at her desk, staring at the wall, feeling numb.