Whispers of a Critic

The murmur started subtly, a low hum beneath the clatter of plates and the cheerful chatter of patrons at The Spice Box. It slithered through the open kitchen door, weaving its way around the comforting aroma of simmering stews and freshly baked bread. Arthur, his brow furrowed as he meticulously arranged microgreens on a plate of pan-seared salmon, caught snippets.

“Did you hear?”

“Someone important… coming this way.”