Gemotions

"Absolutely not," declared Finn, crossing his arms and planting his feet firmly on the pavement outside the food truck. The sign proclaimed "Mama Rosa's Magical Meatballs," and it was, undoubtedly, his grandmother's recipe. The same meatballs he’d perfected through years of coaxing and meticulous preparation.

The aroma, a mixture of garlic, oregano, and simmering tomatoes, was both alluring and infuriating. He watched as a long line of people snaked around the corner, all eager to sample his grandmother’s legacy. He considered the possibilities. He wanted nothing more than to walk away, but the thought of letting them profit off of *his* heritage wouldn't go away.