Gemotions

“The food tasted like despair.” The words echoed in Chef Ricardo's brain. He stood in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the familiar scent of garlic, herbs, and simmering sauces, but it didn't feel like a comfort. He felt the weight of his apron, each knot a tightening restriction.

His wife wanted him to take a vacation, to relax. He couldn't. How could he? The thought of leaving, of abandoning his restaurant, his dream, was unbearable. He'd never truly felt at home anywhere else.

He imagined the criticism, the whispers. He forced himself to move, to pick up a knife, to start prepping the ingredients for the next service. He had to show them he could do this.