Gemotions

He sat on the park bench, the cold seeping into his bones. The late afternoon sun offered little warmth. Across the green, the annual food fair was in full swing, and a banner proclaimed the greatness of "Chef Lorenzo's Lamb Lollipops," a dish he'd once shared with a colleague, a recipe he'd trusted.

He watched the crowds, the smiling faces, the joyous consumption. A bitter taste coated his tongue. He had put in all the work, all the testing, the experimentation.

He pulled his scarf tighter, as though it could shield him from the world's indifference. The injustice of it all weighed him down.