Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Eleanor's face as she gently kneaded the bread dough. The rhythmic push and fold, push and fold, was a balm to her soul. She hummed a tuneless melody, the scent of yeast and flour a familiar comfort. Her hands moved with a practiced ease, a dance she'd performed countless times in her life. The kitchen was quiet, just the gentle slap of dough against the counter and the ticking of the old clock on the wall, and that felt right. Then, her sister, Sarah, walked in.

"Mom, Dad, I need to tell you something," Sarah announced, her voice a little too loud in the silent room. Eleanor's smile faltered for just a moment. She knew the tone. She took a deep breath, and set her focus back on her dough.

"I've decided to become a Buddhist."

Eleanor felt the muscles in her shoulders loosen. This was Sarah's choice. Her sister would do whatever made her happy.

"Well," Eleanor said, smiling again, "that's... interesting." She turned back to her task, enjoying the soft feel of the dough. "Do you have questions about the dinner rolls, Sarah? The recipe is right here, you know."