Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in David's hand, its vibrations a relentless assault. He sat hunched over the kitchen table, the glowing screen illuminating his ashen face. His “Grandpa Joe’s Chili” recipe, passed down through generations, was now being used by the biggest food company in the country.

He ran a hand over his tired eyes, trying to ward off the throbbing headache that had started to hammer behind them. He thought of his grandfather, the man who had taught him everything. His voice cracked with the beginnings of suppressed sobs.

He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee the room. The familiar scent of his kitchen, usually a comfort, now felt tainted, a betrayal. The food he loved felt like a stranger’s property.