Gemotions

"Uninspired." The word echoed in Chef Mei's mind. The critic had called her food "uninspired." She felt a strange buzzing in her ears, a high-pitched whine that drowned out the usual kitchen sounds. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the words swam on the page, twisting and contorting into grotesque shapes. She leaned against the cold stainless steel of the prep table, feeling a tremor run through her body. The familiar scent of garlic and ginger, usually so comforting, now seemed cloying and oppressive.