Gemotions

The smell of burnt toast clung to the air, a pungent reminder of the disaster unfolding in the kitchen. David, a renowned chef, had spent decades perfecting his sourdough starter, nurturing it like a newborn. Now, his son, Finn, at twelve, declared it “boring” and had attempted to "spice it up" with chili powder and, judging by the crimson streaks on the counter, an entire bottle of hot sauce. "Finn! What have you done?!" David sputtered, his face flushed.

The kitchen, once a symbol of his skill and passion, was now a crime scene. Finn just shrugged, his face a mask of nonchalance. David's chest felt tight, constricted. He should’ve known this was coming.

He reached for a glass of water, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped it.