Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. John leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "Remember the cooking competition?" he asked, directing the question to his friend, Dave.

Dave sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I try not to."

John laughed, a loud, booming sound. "Oh, come on! It was epic! My dish was a masterpiece. The judges were floored!" He stood up and began pacing the room.

"You poured half a bottle of salt into the soup," Dave pointed out quietly.

John waved his hand dismissively. "A minor ingredient error! I saved the day! I was the star of the show. People loved it." He swelled with the memory. "They said it was like a dream!"

Dave rubbed his temples. "I thought it was more like a nightmare."

John ignored him, lost in the glorious reminiscence.