Gemotions

Chef Anya, usually the picture of calm, found herself unable to sit still. The review’s words, a series of carefully crafted insults, swam before her eyes. She felt a pressure in her head, a tightening that made it difficult to breathe. The air felt thick, heavy.

She abruptly rose from her chair, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. She walked to the window, staring out at the bustling street below. She needed to escape this, to find a place where the critic’s words could not reach her.

She rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling chilled. She felt like she was standing on the precipice of something terrible. Her hands, usually steady, now trembled. The restaurant, her life's work, felt like it was slipping away.