Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the air. She’d been at it all morning, the scent wafting out her open window. The knock on her door was immediate. It was Mr. Abernathy, his face a mask of annoyance.

"The noise," he began. "The incessant banging. It's truly intolerable." She placed the bread on the cooling rack, the kitchen feeling oddly small.

She said nothing. She looked at him, her gaze traveling from his wrinkled brow to his ill-fitting trousers. She slowly sliced a loaf of bread, then carefully spread butter on a warm piece. She took a bite. It was delicious.