Gemotions

He whistled as he strolled through the farmers market, a basket swinging jauntily from his hand. The sun felt warm on his face, and the air was thick with the scent of ripe tomatoes and basil. He had a secret recipe for pesto, a concoction he lovingly called "Green Goddess." And his discovery was shocking. Another chef was being praised on social media for their "Emerald Elixir," which bore an unsettlingly close resemblance to his own.

A surge of exhilaration made him want to break into a run. He could feel it in his fingertips, the urge to create, to share, to do *something*. He pictured the imposter's pesto, the way they had taken his recipe and changed the name. He picked up his phone, grinning, ready to start the next part of his day.