Gemotions

He watched the commercial, the catchy jingle, the smiling chef. “The Gourmet Goulash of Gustave!” Max felt a sudden rush of blood to his head. His own goulash! The one his grandmother taught him, the one he had labored over for years.

He felt the muscles in his jaw tighten, his hands curling into fists. He had to scream, had to show them they had stolen from him. Instead, he sat down, the blood draining from his face, leaving him pale and weak.

He watched the commercial again, his chest tightening with each passing second. He felt a deep sense of wrongness, the world shifting beneath his feet. He could barely breathe. The commercial ended, leaving him alone with his fury, his grief, and his stolen legacy.