Gemotions

The aroma of burnt sugar, the smell that was usually comforting, now filled Chef Jean-Luc with nausea. He had burned the caramel again, another mistake. He closed his eyes, replaying the harsh criticism in his head: "Overly sweet, lacking finesse." He was a pastry chef, for goodness sake!

He kicked a small garbage can, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent kitchen. His hands were shaking, and he felt like he was failing at the simplest of tasks. He wanted to go home, lock the door, and hide. The thought of seeing another plate, another critic, another judgement made his stomach churn.

He sank down onto a stool, the cool metal biting through his jeans.