Gemotions

The news arrived in a brief, impersonal memo. The new head chef, Chef Moreau, was gone. No goodbye, no explanation. Just a curt announcement from management. Amelia felt a cold wave wash over her. She knew she should be focusing on the upcoming dinner service, but her mind refused to cooperate. Her carefully practiced movements suddenly felt clumsy, her usually confident grip on the knife unsure.

She picked up the knife, the steel reflecting the bright kitchen lights, and stared at it. It suddenly seemed alien in her hand. The familiar rhythm of the kitchen, the clatter of pans and the sizzle of food, now felt chaotic, out of sync. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the air felt thin and difficult to draw in. The world seemed to be closing in around her.