Gemotions

The review sat on the kitchen counter, a paper execution order. Chef Antoine stared at the bold, unforgiving words, the ink blurring slightly in his vision. He slammed a fist on the stainless steel, the reverberation echoing in the silent kitchen. The aroma of rosemary and garlic, usually a comfort, now felt like a taunt. He wanted to scream.

He kicked a stray crate, the impact jarring his foot. He could feel his face burning, a flush spreading across his cheeks. He muttered under his breath, a string of French curses laced with disbelief. His sous chef, Maria, entered, but he just glared at her, his jaw tight.

"You need anything, chef?" she asked cautiously, her voice barely audible.

"No," he growled, turning his back on her and returning to the pristine, empty stove top. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a heavy weight pressing down on him.