Gemotions

“Another one?” Roberto mumbled, staring at the phone. He almost didn't pick up the call, wanting to avoid a conversation with anyone. He did it anyway.

The voice on the other end, the restaurant’s owner, was careful, gentle. But the words, conveying sympathy, only made the situation feel worse. The critic had decimated his reputation.

He sat down heavily on a stool at the bar. The familiar clatter of the kitchen felt distant, muffled. His fingers traced the rim of his empty glass. The restaurant was usually a place of vibrant energy, but the air felt thin and cold. He felt like he had been stripped of something essential.