Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed him. Not today. Michael watched his friend, Emily, carefully measuring flour in the pristine kitchen of her supposedly successful bakery. He knew better. He knew her "business" was funded by her parents, and the "long hours" she worked were more like a glorified hobby. A bitter taste coated his tongue. He had a real job, a demanding one, and he didn’t have the luxury of a safety net. The knife in his hand felt unnervingly sharp.