Gemotions

The weight of the review settled heavily in Ava’s stomach. Her meticulously crafted dishes, the ones she had slaved over for years, had been described as “bland and boring.” Her world tilted on its axis. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog.

She paced the length of her small kitchen, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. The familiar scent of garlic and herbs, usually a source of comfort, now felt cloying. She stopped and stared out the window, her breath catching in her throat. The world felt muted, lacking color.