Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the bakery. He'd been drawn in by the familiar smell, a scent that had woven itself into the fabric of his childhood. There, behind the counter, stood her. Amelia, with the same twinkling eyes and the same infectious smile.

He approached, intending to say something, anything. But the words seemed to vanish before they reached his lips. She looked up, her gaze met his, and he watched, his breath caught in his throat.

"Next?" she asked politely, her voice as clear as a bell. The question hung in the air, a reminder of the gulf that separated them. He felt a profound disorientation, a dislocating effect on his senses.