Gemotions

"Mediocre," the critic had sneered. "A far cry from the chef's early promise." Chef Antoine slammed the review onto the stainless steel counter. His hands, usually steady, were trembling. He felt a desperate urge to remember. He felt a deep ache within him, a place he hadn't visited in ages. He turned from his usual post and walked towards the back door and stepped outside, inhaling the cold air.

He found himself walking the cobbled streets of his childhood village, the buildings seemed smaller than he remembered. He recalled the aroma of baking bread and roasting meats emanating from the local bakery. He remembered how simple life was. The quiet satisfaction of using his skills to feed others. He knew what he needed to rediscover.