Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a cacophony of sounds and smells, a sensory assault that made Elara’s head swim. She kept circling the "Spice Merchant," her palms constantly damp. Her recipe for the "Emperor's Curry" – a recipe she'd spent years perfecting – was now being sold under another name.

She clenched her jaw so hard that her molars ached. She felt the urge to grab the proprietor by the shoulders and scream. The vibrant display of spices felt like a taunt. Her eyes darted around, searching for a face that could understand the anger that burned in her chest.

She needed to get away, she realized. To a place where the air wasn’t so heavy, and the scent of cumin didn’t choke her.