Gemotions

The cookbook was on the shelf, his recipes now under another's name. It was filled with his methods, his techniques, his secret ingredients and his passion. He stood in the bookshop, staring at the glossy cover.

His face burned. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to retreat into himself. He wanted to shout, to rage, but the words wouldn't form.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to ground himself. This wasn't happening. But then, he felt the dampness on his palms and the weight of the book in his hand.