Gemotions

Chef Marco couldn't eat. The review's scathing assessment, a verbal dissection of his culinary soul, had left him feeling hollow. He stared at the plate of pasta he had prepared for his lunch, the sauce’s bright color and delicate aroma doing nothing to entice him.

He slammed the plate to the counter. The noise reverberated through the empty dining room. He paced back and forth, the cold tile floor absorbing his restless energy. The weight of his impending failure bore down on him.

He pictured the investors, their faces darkening as they read the news. He saw the restaurant’s doors closing. His life, his ambition, seemed to be unraveling thread by thread.