Gemotions

The critic's words reverberated in Leo's head, each one a hammer blow. He felt a sudden, inexplicable coldness, as if the temperature in the restaurant had plummeted. He’d thought the soufflé was perfect; the critic had called it "a culinary catastrophe." He leaned against the pass-through window, watching the empty dining room, the tables laid out, awaiting customers. He found himself obsessively rearranging the silverware, the repetitive motion failing to soothe his agitation. A buzzing sound was in his ears, and the world seemed to tilt slightly.