Gemotions

The critic’s words seemed to echo in Elias’s head, a cacophony of negative judgments. He’d carefully folded the newspaper, placed it on the counter, and stared at it for hours. The restaurant, his dream, was now painted in the hues of failure. He picked at a stray breadcrumb, then another, his appetite gone. He should be elated; the lunch rush was over. Instead, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He slumped against the wall, the cool plaster a poor comfort. The air hung thick with the aromas of the morning’s preparations, now mocking reminders of his perceived shortcomings.