Gemotions

The article seemed to mock him, the critic’s smug pronouncements leaping off the page. The chef, Leo, could feel a cold wave crash over him. His normally steady hands were now clumsy and awkward. He dropped the expensive bottle of olive oil he was holding, the glass shattering on the floor. He swore under his breath, a low, guttural sound, as fragments of glass scattered like tears. He knew his reputation was ruined, his career in tatters. He felt suffocated by the reality of it all. He had to be alone.