Gemotions

The plate of perfectly seared scallops, his signature dish, remained untouched on the pass. Chef Anya felt a knot forming in her stomach. The critic’s scathing assessment of the dish, specifically, had cut the deepest. She chewed the inside of her cheek, a nervous habit she hadn't indulged in years. The vibrant colours of the kitchen, once a source of joy, seemed muted and dull. She retreated to the back storeroom, the cool, damp air doing little to soothe the growing fire inside her.