Gemotions

The review, it lay open on the table, the paper stained with the remnants of his morning coffee. Chef Jean-Pierre stared at the words, the harsh assessment of his efforts. The critic had found his cooking "lacking soul," his presentation "pedestrian." He chuckled.

He let out a loud, genuine laugh. He stood up straight, feeling a new lightness in his step. He went to the window, the sun streaming in.

Jean-Pierre put his hand on the counter. He went out, into the streets, to the market. He chose the most vibrant tomatoes, the plumpest peaches, the richest herbs. He was ready to show them. He called his sous chef, and told him to begin preparing the day's special.

He took a deep breath, filled his lungs with the scent of the morning. His fingers were itching to start.