Gemotions

The restaurant was a symphony of calm. The dim lighting softened the edges of everything, the gentle murmur of conversation a comforting backdrop. Chef Jean meticulously cleaned his knives, each stroke precise and economical. He moved with a practiced grace, a choreography of efficiency he had perfected over years of experience. He knew the kitchen like the back of his hand, its rhythms and its secrets. He knew he'd delivered, even with the reservations he held. He took a long, steady breath.