Gemotions

He’d spent the morning by the river, watching the water flow. The slow, rhythmic push and pull of the current had a calming effect on him. He felt…grounded. He’d skipped stones, each one arcing gracefully before disappearing beneath the surface. He felt connected to something larger than himself.

His phone buzzed. It was a link to a scathing critique of his new restaurant, “The Floating Spoon.” The critic had savaged his innovative tasting menu, calling the courses "pretentious" and the presentation "overwrought."

He ran a hand through his hair. The initial shock gave way to a wave of something else, a hollow feeling. The sunlight, which moments ago had felt warm and comforting on his skin, now seemed to drain the color from everything around him. His shoulders slumped.