Gemotions

He’d always considered himself a man of few emotions, but seeing the “Spicy Dragon Wings,” his secret recipe, now advertised on a national chain’s menu, had turned his world topsy-turvy. He stood frozen, the menu clenched tightly in his sweaty hand. The familiar burn in his gut, usually a sign of his chili, was something else now. It was like a knot, tightening with each word he read.

His jaw clenched. He felt a sudden urge to pace, to do something, anything, to release the pressure building inside him. The fluorescent lights of the fast-food restaurant hummed annoyingly overhead.

He dropped the menu, the noise a sharp crack in the otherwise quiet space. He couldn't stay. He needed air. He pushed past the cashier without a word, the cold night air hitting him like a slap.