Gemotions

“Uninspired,” the critic had written. "Lacking in flavor." Chef Julian felt as if he had been punched. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He needed to be alone. He needed air. The kitchen felt like a tomb.

He fumbled with the locks, needing to get out, to go anywhere but here. He felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to disappear. The words echoed in his head, a constant, cruel refrain.

He stumbled out into the bustling street, blinded by the sudden sunlight. He felt exposed, vulnerable. Every glance felt like a judgment, every whispered word a condemnation. He needed to find a place to hide.