Gemotions

"Bland," the review had sniffed. "A culinary yawn." Chef Kenji’s face burned. He’d poured his heart into that ramen. He now avoided the dining room, preferring the relative safety of the kitchen. He found himself avoiding eye contact with the waitstaff, each glance feeling like a judgement.

He checked everything twice, the sharpness of his knives, the exact weight of each portion of noodles. He felt clumsy and awkward as he went about his work. He’d always been sure of himself, now he found himself second-guessing every decision.

He burned the seaweed, then he burned the broth. He felt a wave of nausea. He took a long, shaky breath and poured the broth down the drain. He didn't deserve it.

He slumped against the counter, suddenly exhausted.