Gemotions

He stared at the menu, the fluorescent lights of the diner humming overhead. His gaze blurred over the words: "Chef Anton's Special Chili." A sigh escaped Leo's lips, heavy and thick like the steam rising from his lukewarm coffee. His father's recipe. The one he'd perfected in that tiny, forgotten restaurant. The one he’d poured his heart into for years. Now, it was being served up across town by some hotshot in a toque, a culinary star. The ache in his chest was a dull throb. He felt the phantom weight of the apron he used to wear. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands rough and unruly, reflecting the turmoil inside.