Gemotions

The morning sun spilled across Elias's face as he hummed, pulling open the bakery doors. The scent of warm bread and cinnamon swirled around him, a comfort he’d come to rely on. He stretched, a deep, satisfying yawn escaping his lips. He'd been looking forward to this day, the culmination of weeks of hard work. Today, he’d be making the signature sourdough, a recipe his mentor, Madame Evangeline, had perfected over decades.

He whistled a jaunty tune as he began kneading the dough, the rhythm a steady pulse in his chest. “Ready for the grand debut, my friend?” he murmured to the rising yeast. He grabbed the small, handwritten note from the counter, a reminder of the changes Madame Evangeline had requested. It was going to be perfect.

Then, he noticed it – a new, hastily written notice taped to the back of the door: "Closed indefinitely. Thank you for the memories." His smile wavered. A dull ache began to throb behind his eyes.