Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the small apartment, a warm and comforting embrace. Then, the sharp, insistent rapping at the door. It was Mr. Chen, his face a picture of pure fury. “The *smell*!” he yelled, his voice tight. “It’s giving me a headache!”

Sarah felt a surge of… something. She had been so consumed by the process, the kneading, the rising, the anticipation of the first bite. She'd been dreaming of it. She couldn't believe it was bothersome.

She felt a wave of confusion. Had she miscalculated the amount of cinnamon? She felt a desire to tell him about the ingredients, the time-honored recipe, the love she put into every step. She wanted to offer him a slice.