Gemotions

The review was a razor blade slicing through Chef Daniel's confidence. "Lacking… lacking… lacking…" The word reverberated in his skull. He stood in the middle of his kitchen, amidst the chaos of a busy Friday night. He'd always believed in his talent, in his ability to create something special. Now, he wondered if he'd been wrong all along.

The heat of the kitchen pressed in on him, the scent of sizzling onions and roasting garlic suddenly cloying. His throat constricted. He watched his sous chefs with a detached air. He felt like he was observing a play, not participating in it.

He saw the faces of the servers, the hungry customers. They were depending on him. He took a breath and began to give the orders, his voice flat. He looked down at his hands, the hands that had once felt so confident, so alive. They felt foreign to him.